The Collinsport Chronicles XXXIII: Auto da Fe
by Maryland Rose
Summary: What happens when Willie's father comes to Collinsport?
1. Chapter 1

Yolanda has been defeated, as Megan breaks from her prison of light. Hallie, who has become a phoenix and married David, secretly helps in destroying Yolanda and secures stones for herself. Barnbas recovers from his uncontrolable hunger. Adam finds that his temper is getting out of control. Willie's father is coming to Collinsport.

* * *

AUTO DA FE

Chapter 1

Megan held the gun straight ahead of her, squinted, and pulled the trigger.

"Bull's eye" she said evenly, a bit wearily.

"So this is how you handle the blues?" Barnabas asked her.

"Yes. It is a good way to get rid of tensions, and also improve my aim. Why don't you try it?"

Barnabas shook his head. "It's been a while since I fired a gun."

"The more reason for you to know how to handle one. You can't always count on your own supernatural powers to get you out of trouble. They certainly didn't help me."

"Would a gun have helped?"

"Maybe. After all, pulling a trigger can be very quick. And she wasn't experienced enough to detect the movement or to stop every one of my muscles. But, like a sap, I did not carry a gun with me. Didn't think I needed one... I was having a bad case of stupidity... Well, I learned better. You just can't take anything for granted in this world."

"You still angry with yourself?'

"Wouldn't you?" To be jumped like that by... by a damned amateur! A bumbling amateur, for Chris's sake! She impersonated me, then looked into the mirror to see if she looked right!" she shook her head in disbelief at Yolanda's and her own stupidity."

"She fooled all of us. She fooled me. I actually pleaded with Carolyn to give her another chance.."

"Well, fooling you..." Megan shrugged "that's..."

"That's to be expected?" Barnabas said softly. "I guess that by now everybody knows what a soft touch I am."

"Well, there are worse things than being a soft touch. But me... I don't have that kind of a reputation. I don't like having it."

She put more bullets in the gun, then faced the target.

"One. Two." she counted as she squeezed the trigger. "Three Four..."

She shook her head. "Perfect center. There is no challenge anymore. Maybe I should try with old fashioned firearms. They weighted and felt differently."

"So it is not the same with them?"

"Of course not. Why don't you try it? You'll find them quite different from the guns you grew up with."

He took and lifted it. She was right. It felt different. But then, it had been so long...

He pressed the trigger.

"You see?" Megan said. "Way off. These are not the old fashioned ones. You ought to learn how to handle these ones."

"What for? I am not in your line of business. George does carry a gun because that's part of his job. My job is to treat patients at Wyncliffe, and I rather not think what Julia would say if I brought in a gun... And she is right. It would not help the patients any to see me armed."

"I see your point."

"Guns are the last thing you need there. It is one of those places where a gun only makes things worse. A gun can make more trouble than it is worth, sometimes."

Megan smiled lopsidedly "I see that you are fully recovered. Lecturing and everything."

"Do I?"

"It is a habit you can't break. You would not be yourself if you didn't"

"Yes. I guess that's it."

Megan sighed. "You have no idea what might have happened to Phillip?"

Barnabas shook his head. "No more than the police there, or the insurance company. He might have killed himself so that the child could have the insurance money. Or he might have had some bad luck. Or..."

"Well, the insurance company was bound to say that. They do not like paying. Making them cough up is quite a trick. But they had a good point. No body. No proof of death." Poor Phillip. "He had no head for money. And Vicky still thought that it was up to a man to provide, so she did not step in and handled the finances... She knows better now."

"Did you encourage her to train as an adult instructor?"

"Yes. I do want to create an adult training center. Old fashioned jobs are disappearing, and the new ones require more learning than people here have. There is a good money making opportunity here. And also a way for the Davenport Center to expand... I can set it up and then have Davenport or someone else buy me out... Barnabas you do not realize how much vampires need money. Any moment you may have to leave town, and you must have cash to cushion you until you can establish yourself somewhere. So it is wise to invest, and take your earnings. As cash, or gold, or something that cannot be traced."

"I cannot imagine leaving Collinpsort."

:"One day you may have to. But you need first a good cushion. It is time that you started thinking of ways to make money."

"I am a therapist."

"But you only work for Julia. Julia is not going to be there forever. You need to establish yourself independently, and be able to earn your way. It is no fun making people give you the contents of their wallets after you put the bite on them. I've had to do it... And believe me, people miss the money a lot more than they miss the blood.. They do not forget that easily. You have to make a plan for the future. I can help."

Barnabas thought about it.

"I guess I will. But now it is too soon. I am still shaking. When I think how close she came to cut Urien's throat. And I know that if she had done, I _would_ have drunk the blood."

"Yes, you do need to talk about it. So do I. The fact that she used Phillip's name to entice me... Phillip and Vicky. I loved him once. You loved her once. And now we are squeezing our brains for a way to bring the two of them together..."

"Yes." he stared at the distance. "She was evil. I thought that Angelique was evil, but her... she was pure malice. She was cheated out of her inheritance, so she was going to commit mass murder..."

"Evil is evil... no matter who does it."

They were silent a few moments. There was much pain that had to work itself out of their system.

Then Megan turned to Barnabas. "Tell me, the girls that were involved in that protest about the shopping center to get safe transportation, are you still in touch with them?"

"Not much, but I can get hold of them. Why?"

"Because I want to use them in my next project."

* * *

"It is going to be a girl." Julia said. "and perfectly healthy.

"That's good." Kenneth kissed her. "Have you decided on names, yet?"

"Well, it could be Julia. Or what is the female form of Kenneth?"

"A bit too unusual. Kennetta. But it doesn't sound right. It might in Ireland, but not here."

"What was a your mother's name?"

"Bridget. But she already has two grandchildren with that name. We might try looking elsewhere. has Barnabas any ideas about it?

"The last time we spoke of it, he was still cooped up in the Old House. He cautioned me that if he did not make it, and the baby was a boy, not to name him Barnabas. We have not talked about it lately. Too busy with other things."

"Yes. I imagine that he's busy. He has to catch up on a lot of things."

Julia suddenly shivered and hugged herself.

"What is it? Kenneth asked with concern.

"The girl, Yolanda. She burned to death. It is a horrible way to die. Yet I cannot be truly sorry. I am glad that she's dead."

"Considering what she had planned for you and the rest, even the children, I don't see what else you could feel."

* * *

"You say that you saw this... this flying object?" In spite of himself Verhoff could not sound convinced or willing to be.

Xavier harrumphed "Not yet. but people are seeing it all over the place. It is a matter of time before I see it too."

"The evidence seems a bit... shaky. And the witnesses seem to be a bit on the neurotic side."

"Neurotic? Do I seem neurotic to you?"

"Seeing things that aren't there is a recognized symptom."

"I see. The witnesses are not reliable because they are unbalanced, and they are unbalanced because they see things that aren't there. Is that what you learned from Dr. Freud? Circular reasoning?"

"Mr. Davenport..."

"I will not have you call me a nut, not even in fancy language. So I haven't found evidence of an U.F.O. yet.

That does not give you the right to be insulting. Not after the way you blew it with Barnabas. He kicked you out, and he was right. I feel like doing the same, Doctor Verhoff."

"I am sorry." It was difficult for Verhoff to apologize. If Yolanda had not made such a fool of him he would not have done it. True, she had used the stones to take over his mind. But he had not had an inkling, not one suspicion of how things stood. Her other victims knew the truth. He had been deceived, unable to conceive that he could be wrong. He had been as certain as he always was, even when he was wrong.

Maybe Barnabas was right. Maybe he needed some humility.

Xavier grunted. The apology did not sound really heartfelt. Evidently Verhoff did not much practice of it.

"Maybe you'd like to come looking for them with me."

"It would have to be at night. I share Mr. Collins' condition."

"Yes. I know." Silently Xavier added that vampirism was the least objectionable thing about Verhoff.

* * *

A few weeks from now he would marry Carolyn. He would become the master of Collinwood. Lord over the place from where he had been chased off with sticks and stones and dogs...

No. It as not because of that that he married Carolyn..

Yet his thoughts seemed to center on that more and more. Keep Barnabas from ever setting foot inside again. Find a way to publicly humiliate Willie, to pay him back for his abuse...

And Vicky... She hated and feared him, he knew. She was part of that past that he wanted erased,...

He filled a glass with brandy and brought it to his lips. Yes. He'd teach them all a thing or two. And Roger. And that brat Edmund...

The glass shattered in his hand, crushed in his grip.

He saw the shards, the spilled liquid, the blood...

* * *

So the old man was coming to see them. Willie wondered why he had agreed that last. Between Louella and Barnabas they had managed to make it such a Kumbayah moment that he had given in.

But it would not be like that at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I can't go back to Joe." Tammy played with the edges of the scarf knotted at her waist. "I just can't"

"Why?" Barnabas was irritated now. "Because he turned you over to Yolanda?"

Tammy nodded.

"And in your mind that settles it?"

She said nothing.

"So you think that it was directed against you personally?"

"I... I don't know what to think."

"You want an excuse to leave Joe and go back to Jake. Not because you love Jake, but because you think that you owe it to someone to do so. That you owe it to your people."

"I thought that I could work, between Joe and me, but it can't"

"Why? Because Joe is vulnerable to supernatural forces that overpower his will? Do you think that Jake would be less vulnerable? Are you? Did you fight off Yolanda any better than him?"

"No. I did not." she admitted

"It was not directed against you. It was against me. And you were included because you were my daughter, because I care about you."

Tammy lifted her head defiantly "I did not ask you to do that."

"No. You didn't But I care, anyway. Now I ask myself why I should. You are a spoiled brat and if you were any younger I'd turn you over my knee and wallop you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"No. I wouldn't. Tammy. I know Jake. And he's wrong for you. Do you know why?"

Why?"

"He's one of those who take their bitterness on their women. He thinks that since white society has emasculated the black male, he should reassert his masculinity by beating on his woman. He'll talk about getting even with whitey. And he'll get even with you. And you have already been in bed with a white man. Do you know what kind of a handle it gives him over you?"

Tammy's eyes blazed. "You are wrong."

"No. I am not. And you know it. Why else come to me, ask me what I think? It is Joe that you want. And Jake's just working on your guilt feelings to make you do something that you don't want. He's wrong for you."

"And Joe is right?"

"That you have to decide for yourself. But I am certain bout Jake."

"He's... he's a brother."

"So is Idi Amin." Barnabas shook his head. "Tammy, forget the rhetoric. Think of what your marriage to Jake would be like. Think about the way he's pressuring you now. It is not that he loves you, or that you love him. It is that it is your duty to sleep with him. You don't have any duty of that kind. You owe something to yourself. You owe something to the people you like and care about."

"I owe something to my people."

"There are better ways to help than marrying Jake. You can give money to the NAACP. You can give time and skills. You can mentor young black girls You can become politically active. What you don't have to do is marry a man you don't love and who'll treat you rotten as if that was going to undo the years of slavery and racial discrimination."

Tammy grimaced. "You know, I have been thinking along the same lines."

"But felt guilty for doing so?'

"How did you guess?'

"There is nothing that you can teach me about guilt."

"Still, the way that Joe would not help me..."

"If it was Joe's throat that Yolanda wanted to cut, would you have been able to stop her?"

Tammy shook her head.

"You would not have been able to. And why did Yolanda did not choose him? Because he is not my son, because his death would not have hurt me as much as yours."

"I wish that I could feel closer to you... Damn it! I like you. But... but the ship was yours."

"I know. I know."

* * *

"So this is it?" Verhoff sneered "We just wait, out in the field, wearing these glasses and hoping that something comes our way?"

"Yes. That's how it is done."

"Doesn't seem to be very... scientific."

"Well." Xavier snorted. "Psychoanalysis is not very scientific, either."

"It is scientific! We have proof!"

"Sure. have you ever seen a complex? At least I got photos, even if they are a bit blurry. Have you got anything to show, except a bunch of words to which anybody can attach any meaning? It is a great party game. Only you get paid for it."

"Mr. Davenport. You don't understand the theory behind it! You don't appreciate Sigmund's genius!" in his anger Verhoff's accent became more pronounced, making him sound like a caricature of a psychologist of the Viennese school.

"No more than you can understand U.F.O.s"

"It is not the same thing!"

"It is not? You insult what I do. I insult what you do."

"But..."

Xavier made a quick gesture. "Wait. Up there."

"Where?"

"Up there. Don't you see it?"

"I don't"

"Over that tree."

"Nothing to be seen. It is just your imagination."

"It is right under your nose!"

"There is noting..."

He saw it. A kind of oval shape. And surrounded by flames."

"What is it?' he asked dumbly.

"You tell me, since you know so much."

"I... I never saw anything like it."

"Well, I did." Xavier took his camera and began shooting pictures of it. "And this time I am getting good shots of it."

"I wish I could see it close." Verhoff say.

"Why don't you fly up there? You can do it."

Verhoff turned into a bat. He hated doing it. It did not seem proper for somebody with an M.D. and a Ph.D., and had studied with Freud. Herr Professors do not turn into bats, as a rule.

But this deserved to be investigated.

Only it did not work. No sooner ha had gotten a bit closer to the object that it disappeared.

It put him in a bad mood. And he blamed Xavier for it.

He felt like going for Xavier's throat, but stopped himself in time. It would be hardly dignified.

He had made himself a fool..."

Xavier beamed. "I got it this time! Photos and a witness! You saw it, clear as day. You saw it, didn't you?"

Reluctantly Verhoff nodded.

"Attaboy! You saw it with your own eyes. It was no hallucination, was it?"

"No. It was not." Verhoff admitted reluctantly.

"Don't feel so bad. We all go wrong sometimes."

* * *

"Do you really think that Edmund should go to school with all those uncouth children?" Roger asked Carolyn."

"He needs and education. And you did not want him sent away to school. The only school here is with the villager's children. And the teacher is good."

"But still, to be together with the riff-raff... Why can't he have a proper governess like I had, or you had?"

"And look what a success we made of our lives." Carolyn said bitterly. "Maybe if we had been schooled with the other children we might have turned out better."

"Still, they are riff-raff and we are Collinses."

Carolyn sighed. "I tried getting a governess. You know what Miss Oates (or Overton turned out to be.).

"There was Vicky."

"Vicky does not talk to me anymore." This confession hurt Carolyn. She had, now that Vicky was gone, no friend to talk to. She had employees, clerks as the plant, or maids at Collinwood. But no girlfriend with whom she could share... Maybe if she had been raised different she would have someone to confide in. someone to gossip about all the new babies and pregnancies, someone to wonder when Hallie would announce she was pregnant.

Instead she was the Lady of the manor, She to be Obeyed. Obeyed, and not loved...

When she married Adam she would leave Collinsport. Would go to live in New York, make friends there. Choose someone to run the plant in her absence...

"Why can't you hire another governess? "Roger kept insisting. "If you worked at it, instead of groping Adam, you'd find someone."

"I cannot find anyone. We have been blackballed by the employment agencies. Bad things happen to governesses here. The best we could do was Martha Howard, and she refuses to set foot here."

"This one was Adam's fault. He is bad for you. Carolyn. Hasn't he done enough damage?"

"Adam was the latest, but our current bad reputation comes from you, dear Uncle. It was you who tried to shoot Phillip Todd and had to be sent away to "rest". It was you who attacked Delia Harding."

'"Look where she is now."

"And Roxanne Drew.:

"I was right about her, too."

"Right or not, we have a very bad reputation. We cannot hire governesses anymore. Either Edmund goes to school with the riff-raff as you put it, or he goes away to a private school away from here.."

"What about home schooling?"

"Will you teach him? You know that you are not qualified. And I know I am not."

"There has to be a way."

"There isn't. We have to make the best of it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Adam could not help feeling sore when he looked at his portrait. Quentin had felt the same fear and disgust once. To be shown mercilessly for what you are, to have the certainty that noting would change.

But it could change. He had done that.

Yet he could not go on like this.

He would not paint over his portrait again. He was free of the particular terror that his future would be identical to his past. Like a fly caught in amber, Quentin had said.

There was an answer to his dilemma. Maybe Angelique would relent and show him the way. Maybe he could find something else...

Yet, when he looked at his portrait and thought of how easily he could get the paints and...

No, he would take the paints, but not for his portrait. He was a painter. That was how he made a living. And he needed to work on a new canvas.

Working would do him good. If anything, it would remind him of his worldly success, instead of feeling that he was just a fugitive, misbegotten creature.

He got his materials together and started to work. And after the first stroke doubt seeped in.

Painting was a skill that could not develop overnight. Yet in his case, it had. Charles had given it to him. Had he himself taken it away?

Maybe that was why he had stopped painting, because he knew that he could it do it anymore.

Feverishly he covered the canvas with strokes, trying to prove to himself that he could do it.

And it was not him. It was not the kind of painting that you expected from Adam Deale Atwater..

He turned and sobbed. Even that had been taken away from him.

Then he thought again. It would not be the first time that a painter changed his style radically. Look at Picasso, all those different styles, one after the other. Artists had to change in order not to become fossilized. A bold new departure, wasn't that what the critics called it? And if it were to tell the truth, the pictures that he had painted before had become rather stale. He had begun at his inability to grow as a painter, to make more of Charles's gift.

But what he had on the canvas was not a bold new departure. It was a childlike scrawl, without skill.

He had lost it, his talent, as Charles had lost it once. Only for him it had been a trick of Petofi's to ensure Charles' obedience. For him the loss was real. He had noting of Charles left, except his skill. He had been left many other things, that he had discarded in his plans to extract revenge from Barnabas. He had denied the only father he ever knew in order to ensnare both Carolyn and Elizabeth. As long as he painted, as long as he had the skill, he would need no other link to Charles. But that was gone. He had lost Charles completely now.

* * *

"So Verhoff saw the flying saucer?" George could not help finding the situation hilarious. He could easily imagine the pompous doctor being discomfited at being proven wrong.

"Yes. Can you imagine it? He had already explained it in terms of return-to-the-womb fantasies, with Oedipus thrown in for good measure. Only it did not work out that way."

"Yes, isn't it a pity that reality did not conform to his theories?" George laughed. "You should have seen yourself that time when you kicked him out."

"Well, he had gotten on my nerves, asking me all those questions that were none of his business." Barnabas was indignant again.

"Yolanda had gotten to him. He had to go along."

"He went along because he _wanted_ to believe it, since it fit his cuckoo theory."

"Maybe this will help him find some humility. This and finding an U.F.O. up there."

"He needs humility. But he's not the type to learn from his mistakes."

"And are you?" George chided him gently.

"Eventually. If I am hit on the head often enough."

They laughed at that. George pulled Barnabas to himself.

"You know, it is good to laugh again. to be back to normal. These past weeks have been a nightmare. It kept thinking of what might happen" George's hand moved to the spot where usually his gun rested. "What I might have to do. I wondered if I really could."

Barnabas held him. "You wondered if you could shoot me?'

"I knew that I could not ask anyone else to do it. I... I owed it to you to do it right. Like you owed Elizabeth. Only it is a bitter thing not to be able to do more."

Barnabas nodded. "You would have done it. But I hated myself for forcing it on you."

"You did not. I might force myself, but that is my duty. I could do no less. And I was the one who insisted in handling it my way."

'You did the smart thing. As usual, I panicked and did the dumb thing. Hiding in the woods, hoping that I would not run across anyone. Of all the dumb risks I took..."

George squeezed his shoulder.

"I did not even know that it was David that I had attacked. I just seized a warm body. I felt the blood in him and I jumped him. It was afterwards that I saw who it was. If I had not been stopped..."

"Well, it is over. You were stopped in time, and you had plenty of time to meditate on our own shortcomings. " he bumped Barnabas arm. "And that is not why I want you here with me."

"Right." Barnabas said, smiling.

* * *

Willie twisted his mouth into a grimace. He meant it to be a smile but could not manage it. His father looked old and beaten, but still he could not bring himself to like him. Maybe it was wrong not to be able to forgive, but that was the way it was. He could be polite, as he would to a stranger, no more.

"You have grown, son." Robert Loomis said "I remember when you were a little tyke."

Inwardly Willie seethed. Was the old man going to get sentimental about his little boy? That was what he needed now from the old drunk.

He knew that in spite of all the promises he had made to Barnabas and Louella, he would end up punching the old man.

"And this is your wife and baby?"

"My name's Louella." she said. She studied the old man with dismay. She should not have insisted that Willie let him come here. He felt sorry for him, but she did not want him near Pearl.

Robert Loomis laughed. A laugh that stretched into a cough.

'You look after my boy, don't you? He's a wild one. He was full of the devil when he was a child. I had to beat it out of him."

"Father." Willie tensed up, remembering too well how the old drunk had walloped him Only he wasn't so old then. "Let's not talk about it, please."

"Why? Are you ashamed?" he laughed again. "You don't want people to know what a difficult boy you were? Maybe you told he that you were always a good son, did good in school, went to a fancy college and are the son of a British Earl."

Willie just shook his head, fighting to control himself.

"But we know better, you and I. You did not go to any fancy college. You went to jail. I found out about that. And then you got chummy with Jason McGuire. He liked his women young, but he would not turn down a pretty boy, either. Did you tell her what the two of you did?"

That was more than Willie could stand. he closed his hand into a fist and hit his father.

"You hit me!" Robert Loomis wailed. "You hit your own father.!"

"It was about time I did. Now, shut up and come with me."

"Your own father! You have no shame."

"You want me to hit you again?"

"Willie, don't" Louella said, grabbing his sleeve.

"You hard what he said!"

"He's just an old man. Let him be."

* * *

Buffy could not keep from being worried. Maybe it was just the weather, raining every other day. Maybe it was the changes in her body.

And maybe it was something else..

But what could it be? Nothing threatened her nor Frank. Things were going better than ever. Three years ago, when she had to see Haskell and his kind every day, this would have seemed like Heaven to her.

Yet something frightened her.

She looked up at the sky. Heavy and overcast.

As if somehow the danger could come up from p there. Ridiculous. As if all that noise that Davenport was making had anything to do.

She should get a grip on herself. Stop thinking of what had happened to Louella. Laura could not break free. She could not come claim her and the baby.

It would be all right. She had to get that through her head. She would be all right.

* * *

Quentin wondered about Adam's letter. Too short. Too impersonal. The last letter he had received had not been like this.

He had not thought much of it at first. Adam might be in a hurry, with his incoming wedding., so he had send only a short note.

But he had expected Adam to send another letter when he had more time. And that letter had not come.

Had Adam forgotten him then? Or maybe he was embarrassed because of his marriage to Carolyn?

Or maybe Adam was in trouble. Unable to handle the transition to a world where his portrait did not protect him anymore, for good or bad.

He knew what that felt like. He had his own life ahead of him. He would age and die in due time, like everyone else.

It scared him. It would certainly scare Adam. What would happen when he was no longer young and handsome, when he no longer could count on his good looks?

He should write to Adam. Tell him that he knew what it felt like.

* * *

'How's Peter doing, doctor?" Iris asked Julia.

"He is improving a lot. We hope that eventually he will put all those nightmares behind him."

"Good." Iris grimaced. "How's Violet?"

"She is improving. She's not well enough to be released yet."

"But she'll be?"

"Sooner or later she'll be."

"I wish I could say that I was glad of it, but I can't"

"It is normal not to be ready to forgive yet. God knows, there are hurts that I have not yet forgiven, either. So, don't feel bad if you cannot forgive her."

"It is more than that. I worry about her regaining custody of Peter. I want to have her declared an unfit mother. "

"You might have a chance, what with Brant having arrested her for serious child abuse. Of course she could blame her mental illness for it."

"I'd feel better if she was not released."

"Yes. But it is not realistic."

"Can you make it a condition of her release to give up her parental rights?"

"It would be unethical."

"As if you had never done an unethical act..."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"She calmed me down." Willie confessed to Barnabas. "If it had not been for her, I'd have paid back every blow of his."

"Oh, Willie..."

"Come on, you know what it is to hate your father. You hate yours, don't you?"

"I don't precisely hate him."

"You hate his guts. And your regret that he's not here to let him know it. So don't be so sanctimonious."

"Still, to lose control the way you did..."

"If I am going to lose control, better with him than Louella or Pearl. You know what I did to Lou, because I wanted to hit my father and he wasn't there. Well, he's here now. And he owes me."

"That's not the solution."

"Don't take that tone with me. Why did you think you beat me up the way you did, back in the old days? Because your father wasn't around, so you took it out on me, instead.."

"Yes, but..."

"If your own father showed up on your doorstep, what would you do? Specially if he stated making filthy insinuations."

"What kind of insinuations?"

"About Jason and me. What I was to him." he blushed. "That he and I were like..."

"Like me and George."

"And it was not true! I swear it was not! And even if it was, he made it sound so... so obscene. Think of what your father would say about you and George, think of him sneering, calling you names, think of him making an obscene joke out of it,

Barnabas shook his head, but inwardly he conceded Willie's point. He was well aware of the anger welling up in him at then thought of Joshua. He _had_ wanted to get back at him, to hurt him somehow, to pay him back for the madness he had endured inside the locked coffin. But Joshua was not around. Willie was. And Julia. And Maggie...

"You see that I am right."

"Yes. And no."

"Yes and no. What kind of an answer is that?"

"Yes, you have a right to be angry with your father. You have a right to express that anger. But you don't have a right to pummel an old derelict who has been hurt much more than you could inflict."

Willie looked up in desperation. "Trust you to say something like that." he muttered.

"Willie..."

"Listen, I don't want you delivering lectures on the meaning of life. I want you to help me get that old man out of my house."

"You don't want to throw him out into the street. You don't want sleeping out there, in the cold."

"I want him out. And not just because I am angry with him. I don't want him in my house. I don't want him close to Louella. I don't want him touching Pearl."

"She is his grandchild."

"I cannot let him close to her. Barnabas, you don't know what he's like. He's a bad influence. He drinks all the time. And he smokes in bed. He's going to burn the house down one of these days. I know that it is rotten to want to kick him out, but. I have to."

Barnabas sighed. "All right. I'll see what can be done."

"You mean that you are willing to take him?' Willie asked delighted. "Thank you, thank you very much."

And Willie was so effusive and sincere in his appreciation that Barnabas did not have the time to say that he had made no such offer.

* * *

'You understand what my problem is?" Iris told George what she wanted and why.

"And you want my help for it."

"I think that you owe it to me, since when I first came to you, you did not help."

"True." George acknowledged it. He owed Iris.

"If Violet were to take Peter on a conditional basis, if she were kept under observation, and going to therapy regularly and the rest, I would not mind so much. But it scares me to think of her being released with no supervision and being given Peter again."

"It scares me too." George acknowledged. "I will see what I can do."

* * *

"They make me angry all the time." Adam pleaded with Angelique.

"Carolyn too?"

"No. Not her." But he wondered if sometimes she irritated him, some of her mannerisms.

"But the rest of them?"

"Roger. Edmund, the maids. Sometimes I think that they conspire against me, that they try to turn Carolyn against me."

"Well, you can be that Roger is doing it...Has he tried killing you yet?"

"No."

"He tried to kill Quentin once. Derek stopped him."

Adam nodded. "But that's not the point. It does not matter whether they are plotting or not against me. I am angry at them. And one day I will lose control... I already chased off Edmund's teacher, because Edmund irritated me.. It scares me the way the child infuriates me. If I were to lose control with him..."

"I think that it is time you talked to Julia. You need to know how to control your temper, and she can teach you how."

"Can you give me something?"

"I can. But only on the condition that you see Julia."

"No, I will never accept help from her. Nor from Barnabas."

"Then find another therapist. But do not expect me to offer you a quick fix."

* * *

Zoya got off the train. She had to come. She had felt Hallie's call and knew better than to disobey.

It had been a while since Hallie had asked her to do anything. That worried her. If Hallie did not see any further use for her, she might well decide to sacrifice her. She had better convince Hallie of her usefulness.

If she could set herself free of Hallie and of Ra...

No, if she ever tried that, _then_ she'd be sacrificed. She knew too much. Her only safety was in serving Hallie.

Why should this happen to her? Was she being punished by the deceptions that she practiced on those who came to have their fortunes told?

And what did it matter if it was so"? It did not change things.

She recalled the girls that had walked into the flame. They had not screamed... there seemed to be no pain.

But how could there be no pain? She recalled the time when she had burned her finger. How could burning not be painful?

Yet, their faces... Almost ecstatic, How could that possibly be?

She had to find a place to stay. Then she'd contact Hallie and hope for the best.

She lit a cigarette nervously. What would happen to her?

It galled her to have to take orders from a mere child like Hallie. She knew more than Hallie did, but Hallie was the powerful one.

One day, if she had the chance, she would use her knowledge against Hallie. Hallie did not know her real name, her real family name. And there was some power in that.

* * *

"So Willie put you on the spot?" George shook his head. "And you could not turn him down, of course."

"Listen." Barnabas was flustered "I know what could happen. I know the kind of problem it is."

"But you could not resist. You never can resist a sucker job Willie can't stand his old man, so why not send him over?"

"It would not be the first time I took someone in. And then, you stuck me with Urien, if I remember correctly."

"But that was different."

"Yes, it was. There was no danger of you losing control and beating Urien up. Willie has already hit his father once. There was provocation, true, but that's not the point. I will not go over the long list of Willie's grievances against his father. It is just a bad situation getting worse."

"And how could you pass up a chance to volunteer?"

"I did not volunteer. It just came to me that way."

George laughed. "Don't try to explain it to me. You are a hopeless case. But you realize the problem you are creating for yourself. There is no way you can keep Robert Loomis from figuring out you are a vampire. And he will immediately think of blackmailing you. You just have to keep him under control"

"So I will."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Robert Loomis was a wreck. Barnabas thought as he and Robert studied each other. He could see the resemblance to Willie. It was Willie gone wrong. Or rather, what Willie could have easily ended up being if he had not run across Barnabas..

Barnabas realized that Willie knew that, and instead of rousing compassion in him for his father, the knowledge made him hate the old man even more.

"So you are Willie's friend." Robert said. And as he spoke his breath brushed Barnabas. Booze, cheap as they come. "Yes, Willie did right by himself, got himself fancy friends."

Barnabas noted that "fancy" sounded like "pansy". Was it due to his slurred speech? Or was it the form that the blackmail attempt was going to take? Evidently he had found an explanation for Willie's prosperity. He could not imagine Willie earning it. But Willie selling his body, that he could understand. And if Willie made money that way, what was wrong with his old man picking some spare change that way?

Barnabas felt slightly sick. He had been warned it might come to it, but he could not help being insulted.. The old man's presumption...

"Willie has told me about you, sir." he spoke politely.

"He did, eh? Nothing good, I beet. He's ashamed of his old man. He doesn't want anyone to know that he's got a father." His voice became high pitched. Probably he wanted another drink.

Barnabas poured him a glass of sherry. Robert flared his nostrils and he accepted it and downed it in one gulp.

"And you, aren't you having anything?" Robert challenged him. The question was innocuous enough, but his manner was not. He was looking for any weakness in Barnabas that he could exploit.

Barnabas sighed. There was no point in stretching it. He could not hope to reason with somebody like Robert Loomis. He had to bite.

"Do you want to see the house? he asked trying to put him at ease. The more relaxed Loomis was, the easier it would be for him.

"He lived with you, didn't he? Of course, now he is moved out. And he's married. But still within your reach." the old man leered. "And you remember him, don't you, and know how to get hold of him."

Yes, there it was, less subtle each time. You had sex with my son. Pay me, or everyone will know it.

He'd better do it now, while he was still in control of himself and would not be unnecessarily rough.

"Well, what do you say, Collins?"

Barnabas nodded gravely. the old man licked his lips, greed shining in his eyes.

He could understand how Willie could have lost his temper. But he did not have Willie's justification. He had to remember that.

"How much do you want?" he asked.

"Not much. I am not a greedy man. Just enough to keep me comfortable and on booze for the rest of my life.

Barnabas stared at him. In a sense he felt pity for the old man. He was probably as much victim as victimizer. And he did not really ask for much. Some decent food, a roof over his head, and plenty of booze to warm himself up and stop his shaking...

Well, he could give that to the old man. Under his control. And probably less booze than the man wanted...

"Look into my eyes, Mr. Loomis."

"Mr. Loomis. I like that. No one called me Mr. Loomis for a long time. Just Robert or Hey, you!"

"Look into my eyes."

Robert did not. What was the matter with this guy, anyway? Look into his eyes? What kind of fairy trick was this?

He turned his face away. Losing his patience, Barnabas caught him and forced him to stare ahead.

"Hey! What's the matter with you?"

Then he saw the mouth opening and the fangs..

He screamed.

Outside, Willie heard him scream. An ugly smile formed on his lips. He should not be enjoying it this much...

But he did.

Barnabas released the old man. He had taken only the bare minimum to have him under control. He did not want to share the old man's alcohol. Still he worried about him, Between the alcohol and the scare he could get a bad reaction - very rare these days, but still possible. Anaphylactic shock did not depend on the amount of blood taken, but on the tissue damage and then adrenaline released into the system...

But Loomis was all right.

Still, he'd better send him to a doctor, since it was probably a long time since Loomis had had a complete physical.

Loomis whined. "Why did you do that? I am only an old man..."

"So you don't try to blackmail me." Barnabas said gently " Now Urien will show you to your room."

* * *

"What is that?" Verhoff asked, mildly amused at the concoction that Xavier was drinking.

"A blend of vegetable juices. Celery and zucchini plus some carrot, laced with anise."

Verhoff made a face. Thankfully, his condition precluded Xavier asking him to try it.

"This is real good." Xavier smacked his lips. "It purifies your system."

"My system has taken all the purifying it can handle, thank you." he took out a cigarette and lighted it.

"I do mind if you smoke." Xavier said, trying to blow off the offending odor.

Verhoff frowned. "I am a bit fed up with you, health freaks."

Xavier just shook his head. "You have a lot of bad habits that you don't want to get rid of."

"Do you know what the three biggest lies are in a health food sore? It tastes better without the sugar. Once your system is purified you won't have these cravings anymore. And it comes all the way from the Hunza mountains."

Xavier's face turned red. "Is that so?" he asked angrily.

"There is no scientific basis for all those inflated claims. All it does is allow health-food store owners to sell their wares at exorbitant prices. And what do you mean by 'natural'? If it was all 'natural' they would not sell so many pills, just the raw berries and herbs. Pills require processing. You are a fool, Davenport."

"No." Sandy spoke softly but firmly "_you_ are the fool."

Verhoff turned angrily "Young lady..."

"I am not a young lady. And you are angry because Xavier proved to you that U.F.O.s do exist, after you explained, very convincingly, that they could no. And because of it, you now attack Xavier's tastes in food."

Dark colors raced across Verhoff's face. First shock, to hear himself addressed like this. Then fury.

He had been shown for a fool and he did not like it one bit. He began to snarl and move menacingly towards Sandy.

Sandy screamed and tried to step out of his way, but he was faster. He caught her and bit her ferociously on the throat.

Xavier hurled himself at him and began beating him with his fists. Verhoff released Sandy and turned to Xavier, biting him hard, as he had bit her.

Then, calm once more, he vanished, leaving them on the ground, unconscious.

* * *

"I am glad you came." Vicky said as she unbuttoned her collar. "Saves me the trip tomorrow."

Barnabas was not fully sure about adding Vicky to his list. Yes, she did not mind. Yes, she owed him. But still there were memories about her that he did not want stirred...

"I want you to spread the word around that I am teaching adults how to read. Most people are too ashamed to admit it in public. Think about Urien. I can help them. I am not going to put up a public announcement, because it could be embarrassing to them. But word of mouth can do it. You tell the women, and Megan will tell the men. One on one. Just mention it, and say that it is a good idea, and... well, push it."

He did not answer immediately, as his mouth was busy. So he was going to be her publicity system. Well, it was a good idea.

Vicky wondered if Barnabas knew that what he had built over the years was a network, a way to exchange information. quickly and well targeted... People did pay to get into a network... And he wondered if the blood he took was payment enough for the service he was providing...

Finally he let her go. "Thanks, he said."

"Thank you in advance. Do you want to see Little Phillip now?"

* * *

Edmund raced up the stairs breathlessly. "I won! I won!" he shouted.

Adam ground his teeth. The brat was _so_ noisy. How could he concentrate when all that was going on?

It was always like this. Noise and trouble. And worrying for how long he could stand it... how long before he lost control

The kid ought to be taught a lesson.

His hand caught the edge of the table. He squeezed it, and it helped him none.

Why couldn't the kid be quiet? Why couldn't they show him some consideration?

He turned and faced Roger, who looked at him and sneered.

"Damn it, why do you look at me like this?"

"You don't belong here. You should leave and never come back."

He began to scream, to move his arms about. And Roger stood there, sneering, mocking him.

He barely stopped himself from hitting him.

He turned around and fled to his room.

He closed the door and collapsed on a chair.

He had to do something. He had to find some way to bring himself under control

He could, the idea hit him, try some of Petofi's spells. He had made a Xerox copy of the diary before giving it to Angelique. He could find there something that would help him.

It did not look so hard, after all. Some ingredients he would have trouble finding., but that only took time and money.

Still, he had to be careful...

It might be better, if he could secure Petofi's hand, the one that the gypsies had taken. ..


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kenneth shook his head. "When was the last time you saw a doctor?"

Robert Loomis thought about it. "In 78" he said tentatively "It was this clinic, you see. And then this emergency room.."

Kenneth nodded. He knew what the old man meant. Emergency rooms. Charity clinics, that was all. Trying to trace them would be a lot of work, and very likely would not give him the medical history. If he was to know anything about the man's health he'd have to rely on his own examination. He dreaded what he might find. You don't undo years of neglect, malnutrition, alcoholism and repeated infection in a few days. It was not his fault, but he felt personally offended that with all that modern medicine had to offer, thousands could be in such shape..

Because not everybody could afford it...

He wodnerd what the dentist would find. Probably few teeth worth saving.

He needed a blood sample He assembled the hypodermic and moved towards his patient.

"You are not going to use that on me?" Robert asked, nervously.

"It won't hurt you. Much less than Barnabas did."

"Doc, you know about him? What he did to me?'

"Yes. I know. I have known for him for quite a while."

"What's... what's going to happen to me?" the old man wailed with fear.

"You are going to have a roof over your head. Much better than the street or the shelters. You'll have regular meals. You'll be able to take care of yourself better than you have up to now."

"But you know what he is."

"Yes. I do. And you should be grateful that he wants to take you in when he doesn't have to."

* * *

It had been hours of reading. Petofi had written so much about so many things.

He saw that it would be a while before he could get together the things he needed for even the simplest spells.

He was almost discouraged. By the time he managed it, it might be too late. He would have lost his temper and done something irreparable.

And yet... If he was reading, he was not losing his temper. If he was busy concentrating on spells, he was too absorbed to be irritated.

And he would try the simple ones firsts. The ones that did not require Babylonian manuscripts or leaves of a plant grown on the left bank of the Nile. Some of the material were a bit odd, some a bit repulsive, yet they should not be so difficult to obtain, even in a backwater like Collinsport.

Only, there were too many spells. Which one was he to use? There was little in there on how to change personality traits. Being such an egotist, Petofi could not even consider that his personality might need changing or improving. Whenever Petofi's personality collided with the real world, it was the world that had to adapt.

He knew Petofi a bit too well. When Charles had painted his portrait he had put too much of what he remembered about Petofi in it. It figured. Charles wanted his adopted son to survive in the cruel, cold world, and who better than Petofi to know how it could be done? Petofi always got his way, and Adam would too.

Charles had put more of Petofi in the portrait than of himself.

Adam wondered why Charles thought himself to be such a failure. Why had he thought so little of himself in comparison to Petofi.

But Charles had given him the talent to paint.

Only... had it been truly Charles talent? Or had it always been there? Charles did not believe in the modern school of painting, while that was his style. High abstract expressionism, or some such. He had forgotten what it was. In any case, it was not realism.

But he _was_ a successful painter, as Charles had not been. Able to follow the fashions, to use them, to command astronomical prices even for work that he knew was not his best.

The kind of painter that Charles wanted to be and was not. Because in spite of his limitations, he had integrity.

Had he ever been good? He had heard critics call his work good and he accepted it He had seen the public want it, and he liked that... But good?

He had not wondered about that, ever...

And now... his eyes had changed when the portrait changed. And the questions had begun, questions that had never bothered him before.

How did you tell if a painting was good or not? How could he tell if he was a true artist or just Charles' dream of what a successful painter was like?

... Charles had once painted the ideal woman. Why not paint the Successful Painter? Why not gift his son with this dream of his? Why not give his son what he had failed to achieve himself?

Did he ever have any talent at all?

And would wording with Petofi's spells help him find out?

Charles had said that he had talent, when he had drawn his first squiggles, imitating Charles. Charles had liked that. It was only afterwards that he had made Adam into the image of the successful painter.

Yes, he had to believe that he had talent. And that, free from the portrait's influence, he would be at last able to develop it.

* * *

"I will get him for this." Barnabas muttered to Sandy. "I will not let him get away with what he did to you."

Sandy shook her head. "Let him be.. He can't stand being made a fool of, and that's what Xavier and I did. And it was worth it, just to see him stop being such a pain in the ass, so superior and all-knowing."

"He could have hurt you and Xavier seriously."

"But he didn't. And he's been hurt in his pride. He's found out that a couple of lesser, dumb, neurotic mortals can know better than him."

"It is not enough You are my friends. You should not be subject to this. And I am going to settle this."

And before she could protest again he turned into a bat and flew away to Verhoff's room.

Verhoff was reading, with no interest whatsoever on what was happening outside. Barnabas materialized in the middle of the room and scowled.

"You have overstayed your welcome, doctor." he said, trying to keep calm. He did not feel calm at all, but he could not start by hurling objects at him.

"So now you want to see me." Verhoff lifted his eyes. "What is it that you want?'

"I thought that it was obvious. You are the most obnoxious person I have run across. That's fine with me, but when you assaulted Sandy Miller and Xavier Davenport your crossed the line."

"You gave me permission to feed. which is what you did."

"Not with brutality. You did not just feed. You attacked them, sought to inflict pain and fear into them. That is assault."

"Do you know what the trouble with you is? Self-hatred. You cannot stand the sight of another vampire, because it reminds you of what you are. That's why you tried to kill Megan Graham years ago. You want to deny what you are, and transfer your conflicts to me."

Barnabas shook his head. "I have stopped taking your theories seriously."

"Why? Because they come too close to the truth? Or are you just deceiving yourself?'"

"You are the one deceiving yourself, doctor. You believe that you are a genius, that you are always right and everybody else is wrong, and that it is your duty to educate them and they should be grateful to your. Only they were not so grateful, were they? They dared to suggest that you knew nothing about U.F.O.s, they dared to show you up for the windbag you are. And then, when your ran out of arguments, you attacked them. Because of your own neurotic need to be always proven right."

Verhoff became very pale. His eyes narrowed. And me moved towards Barnabas menacingly.

"See?' Barnabas said, laughing. "You can't stand me saying those things about you, either. But I am tougher than Sandy. You don't want to take on somebody who can fight back. You are a coward."

Verhoff moved closer to Barnabas, but still kept his distance.

"What's the matter, Verhoff? Are you afraid?"

"You bastard." Verhoff said.

"What? No neurotic drives? No misplaced aggression? Just gutter language? You disappoint me. I'd have thought that you'd have more cute labels to stick on me. But it is not even 'sexual deviate'. You lose your temper too easily."

Against his better judgment, Verhoff charged.

Barnabas caught him and wrestled him to the ground.

Verhoff hit him. He hit back. Verhoff retaliated. So did he. They rolled on the floor, kicking, hissing and spitting like cats.

* * *

"How does it feel to know that there is a Willie in line for the throne of England?" Frances asked, straight-faced, to Willie.

"I can't wait to inherit. Then I'll get to appear in all those functions and wear all those uniforms."

"And what does your father think about it?"

Willie stiffened. "My father does not live with me." and his tone meant that he did not wish to talk further about it.

But Frances could be tactless at times. "Is it a touchy subject?"

"He lives with Barnabas. Look, I had to. He drinks and he smokes in bed. It is better for everyone this way. I have a little girl to think of."

Frances wasn't very sure of how to react. Willie interpreted it as a condemnation and blurted out "Damn it! I can't control him! He's a danger for everyone in my house. Barnabas said that he could handle him, and he can, better than I can. What would you do in my place?"

* * *

There was a heaviness in the air. A pressure centering around her, Buffy thought. And it was not her imagination. It was not just an effect of her pregnancy.

Something was going to happen.

Something had happened to Louella. Almost happened. And Laura could get free. There were ways.

She had given herself to Laura...

No, Barnabas had said that Laura could not get free, that he made sure of that...

When the weather changed, she would not feel like this.

* * *

Hallie looked at Zoya. She did not raise her voice. She did not need to. Zoya knew how dangerous her anger could be.

"Why are you here?" she asked coldly, but with a semblance of courtesy.

"I heard your call."

"I did not call you." Hallie said.

"I heard that you needed me." Zoya looked down "It was not a command. But I knew you wanted me with you."

Yes, she had considered calling Zoya to Colllinsport a while back. She had dismissed the idea, but evidently Zoya had sensed her desire.

"Yes." she admitted, angry at being caught in the wrong by a servant "I thought once that I might need you. But it solved itself. But still." she relented. "Still, I may need you here, so stay."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I am not going to ask how you got those cuts and scrapes." George said, shaking his head.

"Verhoff is in worse shape." Barnabas said.

George shook his head again. "And why did the two of you go after each other?"

"We had a difference of opinion."

"Like that he'd look better with a black eye?"

"You know what he did to Sandy and Xavier."

"I know. So you administered some frontier justice."

"What would you have done? Jail him?"

"No. I couldn't" George admitted reluctantly.

"So it will be better if you know nothing about this."

"Yes... You are right. But dammnit1 Sometimes I wish you consulted me before you rushed into action. If the uniform bothers you, ask me to get out of it."

"But I was right in handling Verhoff the way I did."

"You want a medal from me?"

"No."

"Good." he calmed down. "By the way, did you bite him? Or did he bite you?"

"Neither."

"I wonder what would happen if a vampire bit another."

"Not much. We'd not hurt each other and remain hungry afterwards."

"Yeah." George laughed. "Other sheriffs have to deal with drug dealers, bank robbers, kidnappers, and other dull stuff, while I get to deal with brawling vampires... Just my luck..."

* * *

Megan looked at her calendar. A lot of stuff to catch up with. Fortunately Yolanda in her masquerade had kept the business running and taken care of the routine stuff. And nothing major had come their way.

Still, her projects, Yolanda had not touched. It was up to her. Let's see. Victoria had qualified as instructor, and was beginning to get some people who had gotten over their shame, admitted that they could not read and write, and gone to her for help. That helped her establish her bona fides when she started with more sophisticated training. Martha Howard was happy with her new arrangement, and willing to help. She had to get the maids who complained about Adam's behavior to see a lawyer and give depositions. Contact Barb Fister, and ask her if the position of rabble-rouser and community organizer appealed to her, now that they were going after the Collins canning plant for instances of sexual harassment. She had to make it clear to all of them that while she remained a resource in their fight, it was up to them to do the hard work, that they could not expect her to pull rabbits out of the hat to solve their problems.

She did not mean to stay in Collinsport forever. But she wanted to see the Collins' supremacy undermined before she left.

* * *

Robert Loomis clutched the bottle to his breast. It felt warm, the liquid inside him. There was also pain. The doctor had said something about an ulcer. Told him to lay off drinking. Fat chance with Barnabas around.

The idea was to get his blood so saturated with alcohol that Barnabas would not want it.

He sat on a chair, chasing off the cat that was sleeping on it, and propped his feet on another chair. That was better. Got the weight off his feet. They hurt a lot, now that he was not so young anymore.

Urien came in. Soon the leaves would turn yellow. He was thinking that he would have to do a lot of sweeping and raking. Maybe he could build a bonfire... there had been bonfires when he was a kid... ages ago...

He had stopped being a kid ages ago. he had been thrust into a savage predator-prey world where he was both. Abuser and abused.

There was no need to linger on it, Barnabas had said. yet he did. Barnabas was now his father, not that vile creature that he had fled from, to live in the street.

He saw Robert Loomis on the chair. Drunk, tracking his muddy feet over the house, putting them over the furniture..

"Get out of there!" he pushed the old man down. "You don't care, do you? That I have to clean up after you? Damn it, you are supposed to give me a hand, not give me more work."

Robert Loomis tried to focus his eyes and failed. "What's the matter?" he managed to ask.

"Shape up, old lush!" He lifted Robert by his lapels, not willing to touch him. He was filthy. How could anyone be so filthy? And his breath...

"My God, you are repulsive." he said.

Robert giggled. "I am repulsive, he says, the little pervert. He gets bed and board from a fag, and we know why."

Urien hit him. Robert fell backwards on the carpet. He giggled still.

"Disgusting drunk!" Urien hissed "I should not touch you. And you should be more grateful that you got a roof over your head, instead of rotting on some alley as you should.!"

* * *

Adam stirred the pot, clockwise. Was he chanting the incantation right? And did he have to wear that ridiculous headdress, too?

Well, Petofi had put down that he should. And Petofi should know. He had gotten to be so good for knowing such things. Even Angelique spoke of him with awe, and that was something. So he'd better follow directions.

So keep on stirring the pot. He thought again and again that making spells was a lot like cooking. He wondered if Petofi did not get the two mixed up sometimes, whether he had put the recipe for his favorite goulash there, and he was now making goulash.

He threw another handful of herbs into the pot (the cauldron, Petofi had written. It sounded more esoteric that way).

There was a small explosion inside the liquid and colored bubbles rose from it.

Was that supposed to happen?

There was another explosion, A bigger one. Adam had to step back as a pillar of fire rose from the cauldron..

He had to wait until the fire died down - and it did, and begin cleaning up.

He should have read the instructions better, he thought...

* * *

Confronting Zeb King was not a chore to be relished, George thought wryly, but if had to be done. Zeb might hate his guts, and all that, but still there were complaints to answer, and it was his job to attend to them. He could send a deputy, true, but he did not want to submit deputies to Zeb's verbal abuse and tempt them to commit some kind of police brutality.

Zeb was barely polite. He looked a bit abashed, which was to be expected since he had not yet lived down his championing of Yolanda.

"What do you want?" Abashed or not, he did not like seeing George.

"We have had complaints about your van."

"My van? What do you mean? An expired license plate? It is not. I got the papers to prove it."

"It is not about the papers. I have no doubt that they are in order. It is about how you park it."

"I park it in front of my house. Where do you expect me to park it?"

"It constitutes a traffic hazard. When cars approach that intersection they can't see whether there is another car approaching or not. We have had a few close calls. That van is an accident waiting to happen."

"And you say it is my fault?"

"It obstructs the view. I can tell you how an accident might happen at any moment."

'You can tell.?"

"Yes. I do." George cleared his throat, crossed his arms, and threw his shoulders back. "Mr., King, I am getting tired of your attitude. You may not like me personally, but you should respect my office."

"And you use your office to harass me."

"Mr. King, I have been more lenient with you than I should have. Anyone else, I'd have come for you sooner."

"You want to harass me. You beat me up once, too. Only now, because of Yolanda, it is easier for you to do so. And not have to worry about me telling people what you and Barnabas Collins do."

"Mr. King, getting personal will not solve the problem. You have to do something about your van."

"Damn you!"

'Mr. King, don't try my patience. I swear that if you were not Dave's nephew I'd..."

"Don't you dare say his name!"

"I knew him better than you. As a man, within his virtues and flaws, not as a childhood idol."

'You... you and him..." Zeb's face contorted with hatred.

"Going over the past will not solve the problem. Moving your van will."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I guess I lost my head." Urien confessed to Barnabas "But when I saw him sprawled over your best chair, not caring how dirty he got it, drinking and calling you names...

Barnabas nodded. He knew what Robert Loomis called him. The old man did not miss a chance to be offensive. But why had he decided that homosexuality was worse than vampirism... or maybe it was that vampirism was too much for him to handle...

He banished the thought and turned his attention to Urien. it amused him to realize how much Urien reacted like Willie in this, but then he knew how alike the two of them were.

"You know that he is right about me. In part. You know a abut me and George."

Urien nodded. "But it is not the same thing! Not like I did out there!"

"No. It is not like that." Barnabas put his hand on Urien's shoulder. "He's an old man. He has thrown his life away. He has not time left, and he has got nothing to show for it. His son kicked him out. If it wasn't for me, he'd be sleeping in the street, with all the other homeless our new Administration has given us."

Urien growled "I should not have lost my temper with him, is that it?"

"You cannot do that to an old man, not matter how obnoxious he is, nor how wounding his words are."

"He reminds me of my stepfather. Another lousy drunk."

"An old man, without a roof over his head. A sad, pathetic case. Will it be so hard for you to be compassionate?""

"If only he shut his trap..."

"Yes. I know. It is easy to be compassionate with someone who is grateful. You look at Loomis and you wonder what's the point."

'Yeah, right. What's the point?"

"You are not compassionate for the profit of it. You do not expect to reap gratitude, even though it is nice to receiver it. And he is undeserving. If we gave charity only to the deserving it would not be charity but justice."

"If only he called me something else... Or you. If he did not say that you keep me here for...for.."

"Does that bother you much?"

Urien nodded grimly "I left that behind. I'm not picking up johns anymore. I want to forget that I ever did!"

"I can understand that. It must not be something pleasant to think about."

Urien snorted. "Unpleasant, indeed! It was a nightmare. And I didn't even know it. They used me. And then a few times I'd get the advantage. I would get to beat up and rob the guy. And then there were times when I was beaten myself and cheated of my share of the take. Or it was this guy who seemed like a soft touch. He paid me. But I earned it. He beat me black and blue. He liked it that way. He had not get hustlers. No one else would dare take him. And he was not the worst.." Urien was shaking He had loved that, and only now realized it. "And there3 were a couple of guys, hustlers like me. They found an old man, a wino, sleeping on the street, wrapped in newspapers. They set fire to him.".

Barnabas stared at him. "Were you one of them?" he said in a hardened voice.

"No... I watched it... I did not try to stop it nor anything. But I did not set the fire."

"I see. And does Robert Loomis remind you of that wino?"

"No."

"No?" Barnabas said ironically.

"All right. Yes. A bit. After all, he's just another wino."

Barnabas did not know what to say next.

"Look. I was in bad shape." Urien pleaded "You know I was! You saw what I was when you decided to help me!

It was true. And it was true that with his own record, he could hardly pass moral judgment as to what was done when you had been down.

* * *

What had he done? Whatever had happened when he started his experiment in casting spells had _not_ been what he planned. He had evidently mispronounced a word. Or added the wrong ingredient. Probably a mispronounced word. Who could pronounce those words, anyway? Only an Hungarian. No one could tell where the old Hungarian language came from. It was a real oddity, at last as odd as Basque...

Wouldn't it be better if he gave up on that? If he took Angelique's advice and ask Julia for help instead.

Spell casting was not for amateurs, Angelique had said. And he was very much an amateur. Having watched Nicholas Blair once was not qualification enough.

Better forget it.

And then what? Wait until he lost his temper? Wait until he hurt Edmund or Roger, or one of the maids? Crawl on his belly before Julia? No, he would never do that.

So what was he to do?"

* * *

"Something is bothering you." George told Barnabas, running his hands through his hair.

Barnabas nodded grimly.

'You want to share it? Or would you rather eat yourself inside, all alone?" George chided him.

Barnabas shook his head.

"It is bad, isn't it? Really bad. When you have that look in your face it is really bad."

Barnabas spread his hands.

"Is it something that a cop shouldn't hear?" George said softly.

Barnabas nodded.

"Well, then wait until I am out of uniform."

He did, and put the clothes in the next room, out of sight.

"Now, in my private, as opposed to my public capacity, can you tell me what it is?"

Reluctantly, Barnabas told him.

George whistled. He could not help it.

"It shocked you, didn't it?"

'Yes. But not as much as you. You see, I know that these things happen. There was a time when I actually was a customer for boys like them. I'd pick them up in the street, take them to a room, and pay them. It was ugly, but I made myself blind to it. At that time I had swallowed up the libertarian line about prostitution being a victimless crime. I was dealing with victims all the time, and I pontificated about sexual freedom. Someone should take care of those children. But no one did. They just used them... Well, one day I stopped lying to myself. One day I took a hard look at what I was doing. I learned... So it shocks me, but does not surprise me. Life on the street is like that."

George was becoming agitated, and Barnabas guessed he still felt bad about his past.

"So you see. I know about winos being set on fire. And I know that Urien could well have been involved in that. I knew that he was victimizer as well as victim. And I believed that he could be saved."

"And you still believe it?"

"As you were worth saving once."

"That was what I tried to tell myself. Yet I had trouble remembering it."

"You have become too respectable lately."

"Yes." Barnabas laughed, self-deprecatingly. "Same as Willie."

"Urien and Willie are very much alike,"

"That's the one ting that make me wonder."

"About what?"

"The way Willie bristles about Jason McGuire. The way he denies ever being his boy. He is too shrill about that."

'You suspect that it is true.. Well, after all, there had to be a reason for Jason to let Willie tag along. He was not that much of a help to him.. And now Willie will go on denying it."

"Yes. He has to."

"Do you know what that means? If Urien is so much like Willie, even in that, then it follows that Urien's stepfather is too much like Robert Loomis... I worry about what might happen between Urien and Loomis..."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

She had to visit Barnabas, Hallie decided. As inimical as she felt at the idea of entering the lair of a creature of darkness, she had to. Abandoning the protection of Ra, she would touch this enemy and tell him how much she desired his friendship.

It was deception. And sometimes deception was necessary. Yet there were dangers in deception for a creature of Light. Light bared deception for anybody to see...

But you could blind with Light, too...

Barnabas had once argued with her the relative merits of both creatures of light and darkens. There was no point in arguing them again.

She remembered with a shudder his fingers on her throat. His fangs... She had been Maude Browning, then... she had vowed revenge against him, and now she would take it.

But not yet. She had to be patient and not move before she was ready. Laura's fate warned her how dangerous a wrong move could be. Laura was still a prisoner and unable to regain Ra's favor. It could go on for a long, long time. And that could be her fate, too.

So Barnabas must never suspect what she really was. And this might help her.

She had the stone against her body. She needed its strength to face Barnabas and touch him. His flesh was cold and deadly to her.

Urien was not there when she called in. Instead she found the old man, Robert Loomis, Willie's father. A skid row bum that Barnabas was somehow trying to reclaim. He grinned to her, then turned away, once he decided that she was not going to buy him a drink.

The sun went down slowly, very slowly. Hallie still clung to the last rays. Ra was going, leaving her alone to face the creature of darkness.

She might need yet another sacrifice after this night was done to sustain herself. It might be difficult to arrange. And she did not want to lose Zoya yet. She could be useful in so many ways...

Once the child was born it would be different.

Robert Loomis got up, reluctantly, and began lighting the candles. It was a bit early for this, but he wanted to leave early. Then, without Barnabas watching, he might sneak a drink or two. No many. Barnabas control over him held that much.

Hallie kept stroking the stone under her clothes. She looked at Robert again, wondering if he had seen anything, but nothing in him betrayed any interest in her.

The last rays of the sun shone once more, lengthened, and were gone.

Darkness began coming to them.

"I am finished here." Loomis said "Will you tell him that I went out? Tell him that I finished with everything and that I am not going to get drunk." he spoke defiantly at her. He would not dare speak that way to Barnabas.

"I will tell him that."

Robert left, muttering under his breath. Had he seen her holding something that looked like a diamond? No, it was probably a rhinestone or something cheap. But why keep it hidden as she did? And why bring it here at all?

There were possibilities...

Hallie had to wait until Barnabas was up. She remembered that sometimes Barnabas bit his visitors. But never pregnant women.

Barnabas smiled when he saw her. It was a cordial smile, but an abashed one, remembering the last time they had met.

"So you finally found the courage to see me?' he asked.

She made a face.

"Don't apologize for it. We did not have much of a chance to get to know each other well. And I don't blame you for not trusting me."

"I don't blame you for what happened to David." she shivered, too close to him as she was. "And then with that horrible woman who wanted to kill us all ..."

Barnabas nodded. "The terrible thing was that I was dangerous to you not because I wished you harm, but because I cared for you and wished you well. It is a terrible thing when you are a danger to those you love most."

She nodded sympathetically. It wasn't hard to feel sympathetic towards him, she realized with a shock. Maybe, just maybe, she had chosen the wrong path...

No, she only had to remember Maude Browning and the manner of her death, the feel of his fangs on her throat...

But it was better to act as if she was won over by his charm.

She could almost pity him, the way he believed what she said.

"Sometimes I think about Uncle Eliot." she told him. "Laura killed him, didn't she?"

"I suspect that she had plans for you, and there was a danger that he might find out and tried to stop her."

It was not wholly acting of her part. She could not forgive Laura for his death, and it was because of it that she had been so ready to abandon Laura to her fate and take her place.

"I am pregnant " she finally said. "at least I think that I am. David and I wanted to wait, but... it must have been after what Yolanda did to us. We were too shook up to remember precautions and..."

He looked at her. "Are you afraid that he'll ask you to have an abortion?"

She nodded. "He might. It is not the right time to have a child. But still. I keep thinking that if is a boy I will call him Eliot. Or, if it is a girl, Melissa, which was my mother's name. I know that at this stage it is just a blob of cells. But it will be a human being one day. It is my child and... and I want to have it." she put her hands over the abdomen. "And if I have an abortion, and they botch the job, I might never have another child and..."

"You want to have the baby?"

"Yes!"

"Then I will speak to David. There are valid reasons for an abortion, but the convenience of the parents is not one of them. It is not as if David had no one to help him."

Wryly, Hallie thought that she had found the perfect way to dispel any suspicions that Barnabas might have about her.

* * *

"There is a new gypsy card reader in town." Roger commented.

"Well, why not?" Carolyn laughed. "God knows that we got everything else. I wonder if she's real or fake. If she's fake, she'll get the surprise of her life."

They laughed. Collinsport was _not_ the town where you could play those con games.

"Maybe Angelique will teach her a lesson." Adam volunteered.

"Not unless they pay her for it." Carolyn said maliciously "She does nothing for free these days. She learned it from Megan. Do you now that there was a time when Megan would not bite anyone unless they paid to? That's when she worked draft dodgers... That was during the Vietnam war. She made a bundle out of helping a lot of them qualify as 4F"

"I don't see why they should have gotten off." Roger grumbled. "I went when it was my turn. I got shot at. I was wounded. If we had done that, draft dodging, in the forties, where would we be now?"

"It was a different war." Adam muttered. "It was not so clear cut in Vietnam."

Roger glared at him. "And since when are you such an expert, anyway? Did you ever fight in any war?"

"No, I haven't"

"But you know a lot more than I do, is that it?" Roger said dispectively "how did you get out of fighting for your country?"

"Uncle." Carolyn tugged at his sleeve. "don't start again."

"At least Barnabas fought in the Revolutionary War. He fought under Washington himself."

'Actually it was under Aaron Burr."

"Never mind. He did not run to Canada. he did not show up with makeup and a purse, and tried to kiss the sergeant. He volunteered! I don't see how he could have you as his son!"

Adam's face flushed. "Don't you dare call me that! I am not Barnabas' son and never will be!" he grabbed Roger by the lapels. "My father's name is Charles Delaware Tate!"

He let Roger go. He was tempted to break his neck.

Instead he turned away from him, wondering when he would finally snap and kill Roger...

* * *

"So you keep seeing this thing in the sky?" Barnabas asked Davenport.

"I am going to be looking for it again. I am fully recovered now, and so is Sandy. Thanks for standing up for me with Verhoff."

Barnabas laughed. "I was dying to kick him for a long time. He's obnoxious and no one told him that yet. It was about time he learned."

"Well, thanks anyway."

'You know, I did see it once. I would like to see it again."

"You want to come looking for it with me?"

"If you don't mind."

'No, you are welcome to come along."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was fun. It reminded him of the first time he had stood watch at night in the army. He had been very young and for him war was fun. He would learn otherwise very soon.

Later he had used the night for stalking. Staying out all night had become a necessity, not an adventure. Yet, for a few moments, sitting next to Davenport, he could pretend that he was still a teenager, playing at being a soldier.

"Do you think that they saw the same one? Even Oriana in Florida?"

According to the descriptions we got, it is. Of course, they might be mass producing the same model. In any case, we keep getting consistent reports, and that is good. In previous sightings we never got the same description. That was one reason for skepticism in many parts. They could not take seriously aliens that change models faster than Detroit."

"If this time we get conclusive proof, what next? Do we get to appear in the papers?"

"I can arrange to have your name out, if that is bothering you."

"I am not so sure." Barnabas mused "It certainly would be safe, but still my vanity would want some sort of recognition. I should think that I deserve a footnote. After all, I brought you here."

"Don't remind me of how you tricked me into it."

"Tricked you? All right, I did. But do you regret it? You got a flourishing business, lots of friendly neighbors, and the opportunity to be here, where all the sightings are happening."

"Yes. You are right." Xavier acknowledged. "Still, if somebody had told me that I would be dealing with a vampire and worse..."

"Then think of all that you'd have lost if you had been warned beforehand.'

"Yes. Quite true."

* * *

"I am sorry. I really am." Adam told Carolyn. "I should not have reacted the way I did."

Carolyn put her hand in his. "I know how overbearing Uncle Roger can get. And also how you feel about Barnabas. I wish you did not hate him so much."

Adam shook his head/ "Maybe we should put off the wedding" he said, bleakly.

"Adam!" Carolyn was shocked.

"I am serious, Carolyn. I love you. I want to marry you. But I am scared. I am afraid of what I might do to you, to Roger, or to Edmund. I can't marry you. Not while this is hanging over my head."

"What is hanging over your head?"

"You know what. You have seen how my temper has grown too short. You have seen me hit Roger. You know what happened with Edmund's teacher."

"Are you afraid of being tied down, is that it?"

"No. I am afraid of this thing inside me that pushes me to acts of violence."

"Carolyn shook her head. "That's nonsense."

"It isn't. You should listen to what the maids say about me."

"They would not dare gossip about you!"

"It isn't gossip, Carolyn. It is the truth."

* * *

"Well, congratulations are in order, aren't then?"

David stared at the champagne bottle that Barnabas had brought with him. "What does it mean?"

"It means that I am going to be a grandfather."

"Oh, that." David was less than enthusiastic. "Hallie told you?"

"Of course, she did."

David shook his head. "I did not want to tell you yet. We are not sure that we are ready to be parents."

"I'll tell you a little secret. No one ever is. But they become so, eventually, and with the years they get really good at it."

"I haven't finished my studies yet."

"But you are not mired in poverty, either."

"I don't know."

"It scares the Hell out of you, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"I can understand it being scary, to be suddenly responsible for a human being, to go from being somebody's child to somebody's parent, and adult at last. You have done a lot of growing up these past years. This is the last stage."

"But how can I finish college with a child?"

"Others have done it. And they did not have trust funds."

"We had decided to wait, Hallie and I. And this..." his voice shook a little "this was that woman's fault. Whatever she did to us, she made us forget about birth control. And now Hallie won't even talk about an abortion."

"Why? There is no need. Why should she have one? Do you realize that one side effect of abortion is sterility sometimes? It has happened before. No matter how safe you make abortions, they are still medical procedures, and as such not totally safe."

"I thought you believed in abortion."

'When it is warranted. It is not warranted in your case. The only reason you have for it is that you are scared of being a parent so soon. You need support and time to get used to the idea. You got my support, as for time, nature will allow you nine months to prepare yourself properly... David, being a father is not so terrible."

"What would you know about it? You never were one."

"I helped raise Sarah. That should count for something."

"Yeah. I suppose it should;. Damn it, we had hade plans, Hallie and I..."

"David, Life is what happens while you are making plans. This is life...And then if you want to make long range plans, you were born in the wrong family. We got a terrible track record on long range plans."

David pouted. He was still something of a child. Barnabas saw it and smiled indulgently.

"Come on, David. It is not the end of the world."

David made a face, then managed to smile bravely."

"Well, aren't you going to open the bottle, after all?"

* * *

Maybe the gypsy card reader could help him. There was always the chance that she could tell him how to contact the Romano tribe. Maybe she even knew of Petofi's hand.

She might take him for a ride, too. But he could avoid paying too much. And it might work.

He was desperate. Talking to Carolyn did not help. She would not believe how dangerous he was to himself and others. She wanted to marry him, even if he knew better. And he wanted to marry her, too.

He was willing to try even this.

Zoya was laying the cards for herself. The Knight of Cups. Always the Knight. A handsome stranger who would enter her life soon.

But she was not trying to read her luck in love. She wanted an answer to her predicament. Instead she kept getting this card.

"Madame Zalisky?" Adam asked her.

She looked up, startled. It was her Knight. And he was _handsome_ . He made Tom Selleck look like a wimp... "Sir what do you want?""

She would start on her act. He had seen quite a few of these. He was not interested. He had to find quickly if she could be of any help.

He spoke the words, as Charles had taught them to him. Mispronounced them, of course. But recognizable to any member of the Romano family who knew about Petofi and his hand.

It worked. She stiffened, her eyes showing incredulity. How could this stranger, this _gadjo_ know what was a family secret?

"You know what I want?" Adam asked her.

She looked back at her spread. The Knight, not a lover, but a pawn in the game. A game that she had to play if she was to be free of Hallie.

"You want to know more about the hand" she said, evenly.

"Yes. And you can help me. Can your? Or just teach me? I need help that only that hand can give. I will pay you well if you help me. But if you attempt to deceive me, you will regret it."

It was all bluff. He did not have powers that she needed fear. But it was good if she thought he had.

"I don't have it with me."

"But you know where it is"

"Yes."

"Take me there."

She shook her head. "It is not here. Not in town."

"I know. Tell me where, and I will go as far as I need to."

"They will not be willing to let you touch it."

"I will plead my cause with them. I will pay them. I have money, plenty of it. And it can be yours if you help me. But I also can punish you if you deceive me." he warned her again."

She thought about it. She could use him to steal the hand. Magda Rakosi had stolen it once, and retribution had been swift. But Magda did not have a patsy on whom to blame the theft. She was not impressed by Adam's threats. If he had any power, he'd have demonstrated it by now.

"All right. I'll take you to meet them."

* * *

Anger filled Zeb, a big fury that would not leave him as he stood over the cliffs, looking at the harbor.

How had Brant dared to speak to him that way? How could he be so blatant?

He could not expose him. He _knew_ that the charges against Uncle Dave were false, but how to prove it? Once they became public everybody would believe the worst. People had such filthy minds...

Damn it, they had him. And he did not dare do anything about it.

And to top it. Iris had turned against him. As if it was his fault what Yolanda had done or tried to do. How could he know? She had deceived everybody else. Why should he be the one to take the blame?

It was unfair, damned unfair.

He rested over the railing. It was late. The boats were all back now. The sky was darkening. So was the sea...

He did not want to go home. He would only have another argument with Jessica who could not understand his determination to punish Barnabas Collins and George Brant. She kept saying that it was time that he attended to really serious matters. As if anything could be more important...

Didn't she realize the importance of this? What a fundamental insult this situation was for him. It was his home, his family that were involved. Sure, it was now fashionable to laugh at family honor. It was considered obsolete. But it was not.. It was not something like designer jeans that could be in or out of style. The whim of fashion should not apply to fundamental moral principles.

It was a while before he noticed that there was something up in the sky.. He was so immersed in self-pity that he failed to notice anything.

"Zeb." a voice said. "Zeb, listen to me."

He lifted his head, and there it was, the U.F.O. everybody was talking about. Right in front of his eyes. Huge, glowing red, pulsating like a heart.

"We know what you want" the voice inside the U.F.O. said to him. "We sense your hurt. We can heal it. We can give you what you want. Come to us, Zeb King."

The light around the U.F.O. kept pulsating and changing colors, from the clearest white to the deepest red, and back again to white. Then the light expanded and reached down, forming a ramp that reached his feet.

"Come to us, Zeb King. We can heal your wounds."

Uncertainly, Zeb tested the light with his feet. It looked insubstantial, but felt solid. Very solid...

He dared put down the other foot. He did not fall through. It held all 158 pounds of him. Would it hold him all the way up? And did he want to go? Suppose it was a trap, and they considered humans to be good eating.

Yet something whispered to him that he was safe, that he would find what he was seeking inside.

The door opened as he approached it. He could see inside. It was a large room, all dark. And something at the center that looked like a mass of writhing snakes.

He blinked, and in a split second the snakes were gone. It was only an optical illusion. What was there was a fire, with a head rising from it.

"Come closer," the head said, and for the first time Zeb heard words instead of having them reverberate in his mind. "touch us and know us."

He did so. He put his hand to the head's temple and closed his eyes, letting the knowledge pour into him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I feel lousy unloading my problems on you." Willie confessed.

"Well, it comes with the territory. Everybody does it. That's why they are willing to feed me."

"Yeah." Willie nodded. "I guess you take your payment in kind. Still it seems a bit unfair. The inconvenience I put you through is a lot more than you put either me or Louella through. Taking care of my old man, that's hard."

"It has not been so hard to me."

"He just got on my nerves. And his saying that you and me..."

"That we are lovers?

Willie blushed slightly "It stung me, that he thought that I would sell myself to you."

Barnabas smiled lopsidedly "Willie, you know that I do it, but with George, not you."

"I know it."

"Then why does it sting so much?"

"It is not the same... it has to do with..."

Barnabas shook his head, amused, and a bit sad. "Does it have to do with Jason McGuire?"

Willie's blush deepened "No!"

"Willie..."

"Why do you want to talk about that?" Willie said defensively.

"Poor Willie." Barnabas said. "You want it so much to be false. But it was true, wasn't it? You were Jason's lover. Or rather, his boy."

Willie was as deep red as a beet. "How did you guess?" he asked.

"Oh, Willie, why does it matter? I am not the one to reproach you."

"No, you don't. But I do. I did not do it for the sex. It was just that Jason knew all about those jewels. It was the only way he wouldn't let me in the deal. he said that I was not good for anything else but that. And well, I needed money. And the way he described those jewels..."

"Poor Willie. You did it for money, then."

Willie nodded.

"And that's why you kept making passes at Carolyn and Vicky, and practically every other girl you ran into. You tried to keep your self-respect that way."

Willie nodded again. "I hated it. To be... one of those. But the thought of the jewels kept me going. I was going to get them and split."

"And you found the jewels, in a manner of speaking."

"I did hate you then. But at least you did not ask _that_ of me. In a way, it made it easier to accept you."

"Yet you wept when you buried Jason. You must have been fond of him, in a way."

"Yes. I was. Maybe I was still looking for a father. I was still mixed-up, you know."

"So you were a hustler once. Even if it was for that one caper. And that's why you hate Urien so much."

"I don't hate him."

"No, but you resent him."

"Yes."

"And you are not very comfortable with me and George, either. You tolerate it for my sake, but you don't actually believe that we... er, do it."

Willie nodded again. "I guess that I have to make myself to the idea that you do it. Worse, that a cop like George does it. Barnabas, please, don't tell Louella what I told you about Jason."

"Don't worry. If she learns of it, it will be because you told her."

* * *

George could not keep from sighing at seeing Robert Loomis. In theory it what Barnabas was doing was admirable, giving a home to a destitute old man. In practice, Robert Loomis was trouble. It was not just because of a miserable childhood that Willie refused to take his father in.

Oh, well. Just another bird of a broken wing... At least, unlike Vicky, he was not getting jealous...

Maybe it would be different if he was living openly with Barnabas. Then he would not resent whoever called this place home, while he himself seemed like an interloper...

He would have to face it, sooner or later. But not until after the election.

"Hi, Sheriff." Robert said.

George looked at him severely. "I thought that Barnabas had told you not to drink."

"Yes. He did." Robert said, lifting his glass. "But it did not help any."

"Maybe I can help better."

"No, you won't. You will pay for my next drink. Unless you want the townspeople know about you and Barnabas. I will tell the town that Sheriff Brant has a limp wrist."

George was first angry, then amused. They should have expected this. The surprise was that it did not come sooner.

And Robert was so greedy and so stupid about it...

"When was the last time you were in jail? You remember how it was? I can get you another stay. And it will be better than flophouses and the street, which I can get for you too. How long was it that you had it so good as you have now with Barnabas?"

"Do you want the townspeople know what you and Barnabas do with each other? I can listen to you doing it. It is disgusting.

"You are nothing but an old drunk." George said wearily. "A charity case. Two fingers away from the DTs. And for all the good that it will do, you can go around yelling that I am a two-headed Martian. See how people laugh at you. And then I'll lock you up for disturbing the peace. And when you come out, Barnabas will refuse to take you in. So it will be back to sleeping in the street, and freeing to death in the first snowstorm."

"They will believe me."

"No. they won't. I am the Sheriff. I am The Man. Who'll take an old drunk's word against mine? Be very, very careful if you want to go on sleeping in a warm bed and eating regular meals. You might find yourself on your ass again."

* * *

"Don't get any ideas about stealing the hand." Zoya said. "It is the property of the Romano family, and they guard it jealously against thieves. The penalties against stealing it are terrible. Have you heard of Magda and Sandor Rakosi?"

"Yes, I have heard of them. But I do not mean to steal it. Only ask for help."

"You are a _gadjo_. You are not to be trusted."

"I would pay them well. I will not pry into their secrets. Why should they refuse?"

"Our tribe has survived by not trusting _gadjos_. We left the Old World in the past century because we knew that there would come a time when crazed people would kill gypsies just for being gypsies. And they did, along with Jews, and others that they did not like. But we would not have known of the danger were it not for the hand. It is our tribe's greatest treasure. Petofi could steal it back for a while, but he was caught and punished for it, for he had pledged to give it to us, and never seek to regain it. He broke that pledge and he died for it."

They were in a motel room. Zoya had not protested when he had signed them together as husband and wife. He did not trust her and wanted to keep an eye on her, threatening her with his non-existent magical powers.

Well, she could deceive him if she chose to. But she needed him to reach the tribe, to be the scapegoat when she stole the hand for herself.

She studied him, sitting on the bed. She could see the eagerness, the posturing, the desperation. He was willing to believe anything.

Adam studied her, too. He did not wholly trust her. But he had to, because she was his only hope. With her, he might be able at last to marry Carolyn, and even become a good father to Edmund, to learn to tolerate Roger, and to reach an accommodation with the town...

* * *

That girl. Hallie Collins. David Collins' wife. He knew her type. Butter would not melt in her mouth.

She had something to hide Something she did not want Barnabas Collins to know about. Something that she would pay to keep it secret.

Thinking about Barnabas Collins made him angry. That Barnabas, what was the matter with him? If you were a vampire you went around biting necks. What calling did he have to go around lecturing people as if he was with the Salvation Army? Damn it, he might just as well be at the mission, getting soup and lectures...

The cat hissed as he passed by. Damned pests. He aimed at kick at it, but the cat was too fast.

"Just you wait. One day I will catch you and drown you, you lousy beast."

But he would not do it. He suspected that if he ever tried that, Barnabas would get really angry. And his anger was not something he wanted to see...

,... Going after the sheriff had been a mistake. But Hallie Collins would not be. This time it would pay off..

* * *

Xavier felt guilty about it. He did not _want_ to discourage Barnabas from coming again hunting for U.F.O.s. He enjoyed being with him. He was not like Verhoff at all.

But he could not invite him back, and he felt lousy about it.

Because of a dream, a dumb dream.

Yet, that dumb dream had left him the certainty that he would never see the U.F.O. if Barnabas was with him.

And he wanted to see the U.F.O. very much. He wanted a real sighting, a real photo, something that he could show to Phillip Klass and make that opinionate twerp shut his mouth once and for all...

...he did not even wonder where the dream had come from...


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Xavier sighed.

"It is Barnabas, is it not?" Sandy asked him.

"Yes. I don't want to tell him that, But what if his presence drives away the U.F.O.s?"

"You have no reason to believe that."

"No, no reason at all. So why am I so certain of it?"

* * *

"I had to put him in his place" George told Barnabas. "I can't have him telling stories about me... about us. Luckily Willie feels so guilty about kicking his father out that he's telling everybody what an unreliable drunk he is."

"Would it be so terrible if it came out?"

"For me, yes. I like my job. I don't want to lose it. And lose it I will if it comes out in the middle of the campaign. You see, I am not hired. I am elected. Completely at the mercy of the public whims. Look at Patterson. After fifteen years they gave him the boot. Fifteen years of service down the drain. Maybe we are masochists, looking for this kind of job."

"Well, you could always become a private investigator if you lost the election."

"But I don't want to lose the election." George said petulantly. "This is what I like to do."

"But for how long? You can't hope to go on winning elections forever. As you said, look at Patterson. It is worth it all the aggravation you have to take, knowing that sooner or later it's going to end? Does that badge mean that much to you? If you ware not the sheriff, you are nothing?"

"Of course." George grumbled. "Sooner or later you'd get to analyze me."

"Seriously, have you ever thought about your future? Where do you think you'll be ten years from now? Do you want to be where Patterson is now? Do you want to end like him."

George sighed. There it was a discussion about the future. And before long he'd start wondering if it was s possible to infect George with the curse so that they could be together...

There was a discussion brewing on the theme, but not now. There were a lot things that needed to be trashed, and a lot of hard facts to be faced.

What if they had to leave Collinsport? It would be easier for him than for Barnabas. Barnabas did not fully realize yet what such a move would mean for him.

And there were no guarantees that they'd remain together...

"I...I have to think about it." he evaded. "Yes. I am too wrapped up in my job, in my office. I think it is time to start planning a future without my badge."

"You really do not need the badge so much. You can have a whole life without it. And you do not need to center your life around it."

"I don't."

"You do, George. You just do not realize how much."

* * *

Megan looked over her appointment book. Soon she would have to meet the women who were agitating about the prevalence of sexual harassment at the canning plant. She'd plan strategy with them, while seeming to remain outside the fray. Then Carolyn would want to contact her, to see if this was a problem that she could solve and...

And what?

She tried to recapture the feeling she had when she had started her campaign to bring down the Collins influence in the town. She recalled how ferocious, how determined she was then, but could not summon the same depth of feeling.

"On a mission from God." she muttered to herself. She had felt herself to be on a mission from God. It was not that something should be done with the Collins power over the town, It was no longer an obsession that drove her...

Maybe that obsession had made her vulnerable to Yolanda's trap. She knew that people on a mission from God ended up being a danger to themselves and to others. She knew enough to avoid them. So why had she become one of those?

It was the new about Phillip, churning inside her all these months that he was missing. Her guilt feelings about his fate had resurfaced, and after simmering, it had erupted into a personal crusade about something that had bothered her since childhood...

Yes, there were things to be done. And she would do it. But coolly, calmly, and taking everything into consideration.

* * *

Carolyn looked again at the letter that Adam had left her. He said that he had to leave to attend do an urgent business. That he'd be back soon. And that he loved her.

Nothing unusual, she thought. There was business that he had to transact with his agent and other people in the artistic community. Probably a problem with the gallery were he was showing his paintings...

Yet, why did she feel a sense of dread?

Why did she think that Adam might not come back?

She recalled the arguments they had had, about his fear of losing control About his need to put some distance between Roger and Edmund...

So, he used this business problem as an excuse to get away. And might not come back until his problem was solved.

But why hadn't he left an address or a phone number where he could be reached?

* * *

The stone had not yet regained its luster, even after she had soaked into the blood she had gotten from the slaughterhouse. (and it was hard to make the one who had sold it to her forget about it).

She should not have brought it into close contact with Barnabas. After all, attacking her was the furthest form Barnabas' mind. All he ever wanted form her was to have her accept him.

She had been almost as careless as Yolanda had been. What if he had seen the stone? She should learn to be more careful.

She had time on her side and her best strategy was to remain outwardly friendly with him.

...It would be easy to like Barnabas. It surprised her, and it almost made her regret her choice. Did she really had to give herself to Ra?

Yes. She had to. How else could she get what she wanted?

She better hide the stone before David returned...

She left it under a pile of sweaters and left the room...

Robert Loomis waited patiently outside. He saw her come in. She had to leave eventually. And then he'd force his way in and see what was there that she was hiding."

He saw David come in. He waited a bit longer. Would they stay there? He knew that they liked to eat out. Maybe tonight. If not, he'd come back tomorrow...

But half an hour later he saw them both come out and drive away.

He could not go inside and discover Hallie Collins's secrets.

* * *

"Have you talked with Carolyn." Barnabas asked Vicky.

"Barnabas, do not push it. There never was friendship between me and her, not real friendship."

"You used to be friendly."

'Yes. On Liz's terms. She used to invite village children to play with Carolyn. Their parents knew better than to refuse. And the children could play with her. But, their parents warned them, they had to let her win at their games. Carolyn was allowed to pout and get angry. The children could not. They had to be always polite and well behaved. If not, the parents were told that their children needed more discipline... So were Carolyn's friendships. And she never learned any different."

"But with you...'

"With me it was the same. I always had to be pleasant, always smiling, always helpful. After all I wanted to keep my job .While if she wanted to get nasty, I had to grin and bear it. Later she would be pleasant and try to convince me that I was her bosom friend. But never once did she apologize for the way she mistreated me. It was an unequal relationship. Which means that we were never friends."

"Still, she misses you."

"Barnabas, do not push it. Carolyn had the wrong upbringing to have friends. I do not know if she knows how to be one. I am sorry if she misses me, but I no longer wish to work for her. And being a friend to Carolyn is a job. A job that I do not need."

Barnabas sighed. The worst part was that it was true.

"Still, she would like to have a friend... and you are the closest she ever had."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

They had been robbed.

David ran through the house, making a list of all that was gone.

Hallie ran upstairs. She suspected that it was worse than a common thief.

Under the sweaters, the stone was gone.

Did the person who stole it knew what it was? Could they tell what it was used for? Or was it for him just a big diamond that could be fenced?

"Anything missing up there?"

"Lots of clothes thrown around. It is difficult to tell."

"What about your jewels?"

"My jewels?" she managed to sound normal. "My jewels are colored glass, and look it. Courtesy of the Avon lady. I don't think that whoever it was cared for them.

"I am calling the cops." David said.

Was it a thief, gotten greedy by a big, expensive looking stone? Or was it someone who knew how to use it, and who would use it against her?

She had to strike back. Recover the stone. Kill the thief. She still had salamanders to do her bidding. And she would call on them.

But not tonight. She would summon them during the day, when Ra was strongest. Now she would just wait for the police to come by and play at being the burglarized homeowner.

* * *

Robert held the stone to his chest. Such a big stone! God, he could get a lot of booze out of it.

He had gotten some cash too, in a drawer, and an expensive watch., plus some nice odds and ends which could be carried in the pocket. But the stone was the best.

He had seen stones like this before, but never dreamed that he would get his hands on one. He knew it was real . He had seen enough rhinestones and colored glass to know that this one was the real thing.

It felt strangely warm. He'd have thought it would be cool...

It was not difficult to hide the other stuff he had taken He made a nice cache in the woods, and covered it with a rock that he could easily identify. But this stone... this stone he wanted with him...

He would take it to bed. Put it under his pillow. He would not lose sight of it for a moment. And make sure that neither Urien nor Barnabas saw it.

* * *

"It has been a while since I saw you last." Sandy told Barnabas. "It seems like years."

"It has been only months. But it seems longer than that."

She had changed much, he acknowledged. Since that time when the beast within her had threatened her children, she had been forced to take stock of herself and stop evading reality.

"I was too embarrassed to talk to you." she avowed.

"We all do things that embarrass us." Barnabas said. "And that's what really gets to us. It is easier to accept guilt than the knowledge that we have made asses of ourselves."

"Well, I did..." She began unbuttoning her collar. "I wanted to tell you that you can... add me to your list."

He smiled. "I already fed. But I will come back tomorrow, if that is all right with you."

"Yes. please, come." she hesitated. "do you know anything about Chris.?"

"He married Oriana Falchi."

"Did he? Good for him." In spite of everything, she felt a jealous pang.

"I am glad to see that you are not upset by it."

"I finally listened to what Reverend Trask was saying. And I had to admit that he was right. I had an obsession with you, and I took Chris because you were not available... I finally realized that I could not go on hoping that one day you'd notice me... I still wonder about it, sometimes. But there is no desperation now."

Barnabas nodded. Same as it was with him and Josette. He still wondered, sometimes. But just wondered, and returned to the present, which had so many things to give him.

"Are you happy with Xavier?"

"It is different with him. Not like with Herbert... I wonder what I really felt towards Herbert. I was his wife, I was supposed to love him. Just as I was supposed to marry him because we had been childhood sweethearts...So I was dutiful, and in the meantime fantasized about you... And not like Chris. Chris was a consolation prize and at some point he knew it. With Xavier it is.. it is something I never knew before. Two adults meeting each other, without pretense, without any sense of duty. Just enjoying each other.'

"I am glad. You deserve happiness."

"One thing." she became embarrassed "Xavier asked me to tell you this, because he is a bit ashamed to tell you yourself."

"What is it?"

"He has this strong feeling that your presence scares the U.F.O. away. That. somehow your... condition sends out negative vibes or some such."

"So he wants me to stop coming:?"

"Yes."

Barnabas sighed. "Well, let's see if he has better luck that way."

* * *

It had been exhausting, all that business with then police, not to mention the way David acted. At last she had some time for herself.

David had gone to town, to get good locks and a gun. And she stayed behind, saying she waned to rest. David had understood that.

So now, once that she was all alone, she could try to call on one of her salamanders.

It was the first time that she had sent a salamander on an errand. All she had done up to now was collect them. She had seen how Laura handled hers, both male and female, but up to now she had not trusted herself to do it.

Too bad that Zoya had had to leave for a family business. She had thought to stop her, but then considered that Zoya's tribe was a powerful one, and she did not want to tangle with all of them. She merely put a lock of silence in her, so that she would not tell of her latest doings and trusted that she had the sense to return to her when it was done...

At some time she had to sacrifice Zoya before she got rebellious, and find someone else...

The salamander came. Not Yolanda. She was not fool enough to let Yolanda near that stone again. Yolanda was being broken to unquestioning obedience and not until she was properly meek would she be allowed out of her confinement.. No, the salamander that came was one of the girls who had been lured by Zoya. She had come to Zoya worried about her looks, wondering if there was a chance for a plain dumpy girl in the game of love. She was now beautiful. So she had been given what she asked for... Men would kill themselves for her sake, the way she now looked. She should be happier...

"Do you wish to command me?' the salamander asked.

"Yes." Hallie said. "Something valuable has been stolen from me. You must discover the thief, punish him, and retrieve that which is mine."

* * *

Carolyn took another drink.

Adam was not coming. She knew it. He had dumped her, just like last time.

Did he hate Barnabas that much that he was willing to hurt her, so as to hurt Barnabas indirectly? Was the whole family what he hated? He knew that many in town did hate her family, or resented it. But he did not have to deal with them. And when she did, she only reminded them of who signed their paychecks. But Adam..."

She took another drink.

"You are better off without him." Roger said.

She shook her head. "Uncle, why do they hate us so? Why can't get anyone to like me, not even a little bit? Why do they enjoy our misfortunes. Why?"

'You are better than them. They resent our superiority?"

"Superiority? Us?" She laughed. This from the man who had married his own grandmother, had an homicidal child, had committed manslaughter to frame his rival, spent a great deal of his time with a brandy snifter, and now chased conspiracy theories...

"Yes. We are Collinses. We are good stock. We must be proud of it."

Carolyn shook her head again. It just did not compute.

* * *

Hallie lit the fire. David, soundly asleep, would not know, much less question its need. And she needed it to draw the strength that she needed.

The salamander had traced the missing stone to Robert Loomis, the old drunk that stayed at Barnabas place.

She would strike at night, when Loomis was in bed. They all knew that he smoked in bed... Let them think the obvious.

There was a danger in killings someone who was not pledged to you. Laura could tell that, But she had many salamanders, while Loomis was only one potential enemy. The math was on her side.

She would strike now.

* * *

Barnabas was away, off for the night. Inside were only Urien and the old man. They were both sleepy and neither had the intention to talk to the other, anyway.

So they both went to sleep.

In his bedroom, Robert took out the stone again, stroked it once more, then hid it under the pillow.

He did not see the woman come behind him, nor saw her point at the stone. But he saw the flame rise from the pillow. He tried to beat it, but as he did, the woman pointed again and flame rose from his pajamas.

Robert's screams brought Urien up. Not too fast. Probably the old man had a nightmare. Or the D.T.s... Sooner or later drunks got them...

Then he saw the smoke coming out of the room.

For a moment he stood frozen, now knowing what to do. Then Robert Loomis ran from the room, enveloped in flames.

Behind him the room burned steadily. The stone glowed red as it was being fed Robert's life. And the salamander had collected it and walked into the lighted cigarette that lay on the floor.

Urien dragged Robert out, putting out the flames. He stopped at the phone and called the fire department.

By the time they came Robert Loomis was dead.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"So Vicky says that I am not a good friend.." Carolyn asked Barnabas.

"She says that there was never real friendship between you."

"But we were friends! We shared things. Sure, I was mean at time, but she did not mind."

"She minds now. She says that she did not mind because she wanted to keep her job. Now.."

"But I was never that mean! And they were such minor things. Look I was young and stupid... Nothing that really mattered. I cannot believe that she is so petty as to abandon me now because of some past slights."

"I guess that she is sore because you never apologized for them."

"Apologize? What for?"

"For all the mean things you did and said."

"But they meant nothing!"

Barnabas could now see the problem close by. Vicky was right. Carolyn had been taught to accept only unquestioning devotion as her due. She had a lot to learn if she was ever to have a real friend...

It was then that the telephone rang.

* * *

It was an old man. His body was feeble, Adam could see. But we would not describe King Ruslan Romano as weak. His eyes were bright and alert, and for all of his infirmity, the old man was far from helpless.

"So you have returned to us, Zoya." he said, with a thin, raspy voice. "Why have you come, granddaughter? And who is this _gadjo_ you brought with you?"

"I am not _gadjo_" Adam protested.

"You claim to be a gypsy?"

"No. I am neither."

"Neither gypsy nor _gadjo_, then..."

"Old man." suddenly Adam was bold. "You tell me what I am. Then you'll know why I came."

The man's eyes grew flinty at the disrespect, then humorous. "You challenge me, then?" he stroked his chin. "You are bold. Bold as a horse thief., indeed."

"Or a car thief, nowadays?"

"Yes. Times change." the old man agreed. " and if we are to live, we must accept change and make it work for us. Come to me, not-_gadjo_ and not-gypsy. Let me read your riddle."

Adam extended his hand and King Ruslan studied it.

"There is _gadjo_ in you. And there is gypsy too."

It was true. One of the bodies that Lang had used had been that of a young gypsy.

"You were not born of man and woman. And yet you _were_ born through a man and a woman. Not from their bodies. They did not touch to conceive you. They met across tables crossed with wires and lights. There was love of the woman for the man, but not in him for her. And no love in either of them for you. They brought you forth to solve their problems, not for your sake."

"You are right, old man." Adam pulled his hand away, shaken.

"You were born of the grave." Ruslan continued. "Unnaturally."

"So you know what I am. Do you know why I came?"

"You have gone through a sea-change. You wish to be like other men. And you wish to be free of the anger inside you."

Adam gulped "This is right again, King Ruslan."

"King Ruslan indeed." then old man grinned. "For the first time you acknowledge my title. The gypsy part of you acknowledges it. And I know the gypsy in you. He did not believe in our ways. He saw the change in the world and wanted more of it. He left us to seek his future and found death."

"You said it well, King. I desire to be like other men. There is this woman who will marry me willingly, yet I dare not while this anger in me threatens those around me."

"Are you willing to accept our ways?'"

"I am ready to try anything."

"Is that the truth?"

"King Ruslan, I am a desperate man. I could make any promises you care to extract from me. And I would keep them, if not our of honor, out of fear of the powers you have."

"Then stay with us, my son, and never leave us again."

Adam shook his head. "No, that I can."

"You are my son, Anton Romano, who left us to seek life outside the gypsy world and found death instead. You have finally learned the folly of your actions and have returned."

"I am not your son!" Adam rose. "I am sorry, but you are wrong."

King Ruslan muttered a few words, and Adam found that he could not move nor speak.

"No, my son, you will not leave us again."

He went to his cabinet and took the mummified hand out. He touched it to Adam's forehead. "Remember now what you have forgotten, my son."

Adam's expression changed.

"Who are you?"

"I am Anton Romano. I am your son."

Zoya cursed under her breath. Now this. Getting the hand for herself was going to be a lot tougher than she thought at first. If Hallie had not put a seal of silence in her... if she could ask for the tribe's assistance.

But she could not. She had to figure out a way to get the hand and run with it.

* * *

"Burned alive?" Barnabas would still not absorb it. "How could that have happened?"

"Smoking in bed." George said with a weariness that came form experience. "What Willie worried might happen."

"But I forbade him to."

"Evidently it was not strong enough. You forbade him to dink, too, and it did not work. Do not blame yourself. You tried and it was not enough.

"To die like that..."

"I know. It is terrible."

"I only wanted to give him a roof over his head, a decent bed, decent food. Things that he had not had for a long tine."

"I know you did. But it was not meant to be. At least Urien is all right. He has burns in his hands from putting the flames out in Loomis."

"Urien." Barnabas froze, un unpleasant thought coming into his mind.

"The old man _had_ been smoking in bed, hadn't he?" he asked.

"There was what was left of a pack of cigarettes over the nightstand. We did not find the cigarettes...Plenty of ashes, thought. You realize that the sheets caught fire, don't you?"

Yes. It was likely that. Willie had said it often enough, that one day the old man would set fire to the house...

But it was also true that Urien had set a wino on fire, once...

* * *

Xavier waited, with binoculars in hand and a camera by his side. Tripod, flashes, and all the refinements of twentieth century technology.

And maybe tonight he'd get the proof.

Too bad about Barnabas, about having to tell him not to come. It was not a nice way to repay him for having stood up to Verhoff.

But gratitude or the lack of it had nothing to do with this. It was a scientific study. Somewhere there was something that disturbed his collection of data, so it was his duty to do something about it. Most of the time it involved raising the temperature of the room or sterilizing the equipment. This time it meant keeping Barnabas away.

He hoped that the U.F.O. would show up tonight. It was getting colder and he did not like the idea of spending the night like this, getting his feet wet, when he could be in bed with Sandy.

For, surprising s it was, after all those years, he had finally met a woman who meant more to him than this U.F.O. business... Perhaps if he had not neglected his first wife, his children would not nave ended up as venture capitalists...

He looked up at the sky. He gave it fifteen minutes more. If it didn't come back, he'd call it a day before he got pneumonia, and go back to Sandy.

And, as if put on notice that it could not keep people waiting forever, the U.F.O. appeared.

Xavier grabbed his camera.

"No. Don't take pictures."

Xavier froze. Had he heard words? His hand was no the camera, but would not move any further. There was a paralysis on him. Not paralysis, just a failure of will. He cold not make himself WANT to move his fingers.

"No photos, Xavier" the voice repeated. "We have to talk, you and I."

There was a shaft of light, coming from the spaceship, and it looked like a pathway. It looked almost solid...

Had a door opened there? Did he hear voices?

"Come up, Xavier, and meet us."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I don't know if I should be here, talking to you." Jessica told Georg.

"I am the sheriff." George reminded her, a twinkle in his eyes. "If I ask you to come here, it is considered wise to do so. If you don't, I get ideas that you are hiding something and wonder what that might be. Being responsive to you local law enforcement official can save you a lot of trouble later."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It is not. I could do it, but never for petty reasons."

"I convinced Zeb to do something about the van. If there is an accident, we could be sued, and it would cost us. That argument convinced him. That if we got sued, you'd be a witness against us, and we'd lose and might even have to pay court costs."

"Very wise. It was a small problem, but once there is an accident it is no more. " he scowled. "I have done my share of picking corpses from the pavement, and if there had been one, I would have had Zed tend to the job. And take him later to the coroner's office to look at them."

"Well, it won't be needed."

"But we have still the problem of Zeb's attitude towards me and Barnabas. Is he still on a crusade against us? Look, I do not care if he hates me. But will his hatred lead him to another stupid decision, like unleashing Yolanda on us?"

"He is still determined. to 'stop your perversion.'"

George sighed. "This is the wrong town to go on this kind of crusade. I know that it is too much to ask of a wife, to become an informer on her husband. But you saw the havoc that Yolanda caused. Barnabas first hiding in the woods, a threat to everyone. David Collins attacked and almost killed. And then several men, women and children about to get their throats cut. I was there. I saw her put the edge of the knife against Urien's throat... There were two children, and a pregnant woman who could have been killed. And all started by Zeb's idea to spite Barnabas by letting Yolanda stay and giving her access to power. I dread what his next move will be."

"It is too much to ask, yes..." Jessica nodded. "Tell me, is it true? Are you and Barnabas...?"

"Lovers, yes?"

'I would not have believed it, of either you or him."

"Why?"

"Well... look at you."

"You mean that I do not look like the limp wrist stereotype. Well, we come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. We actually are a bunch of people who have little in common except that we are attracted to people of our own sex."

"But why are you attracted? And can't you fight the attraction?"

"Yes. And no." he sighed. "I guess that it is lecture time. First, in theory I could fight the attraction. But it takes a lot of concentration and energy. Once I put my concentration and energy there, I have little left for my job. Believe me, you'd rather have an effective sheriff than a straight one. I think that I have done a good job here. And most people agree. I don't want to do anything that will detract my ability to do this job, which I love. So I don't try to fight the attraction."

"But why are you attracted? Is there a biological basis for it?"

"I have a theory. It might have to do with our human sense of smell."

"Smell?"

"Yes. Animals recognize the sexes by smell. Animals in hear recognize each other very easily. With humans it is not so easy. Our sense of smell is very weak, and if you add all the perfumes we throw on ourselves., even if it just soap or shampoo. Not to mention tobacco or booze...well, telling the sexes apart is a lot more difficult."

"But there are other ways."

"Yes. There are called secondary sexual characteristics. And societal clues, like clothes. But you see, there is no biological imperative to mate with pink fabrics, nor blue. So it is easier to get confused. Going by visual clues then runs across a form of dyslexia... you know, when you see things backwards.. I suspect that I am a sexual recognition dyslexic. I see the clues, but I do not interpret them properly. And by now it is ingrained in me... You know, I would like to run a correlation study about dyslexia or left-handedness in the gay community as opposed to the general population. Maybe it would explain certain things. Or not."

"And it is impossible for you to be straight."

"Nothing is impossible if you have enough time and money. Only how much money, and how much time? I know that it is more than I can pay, and that I need the time to do my job well. So I live with it, and do what the taxpayers pay me to do, which is enforce the law and keep them safe. And at this moment keeping people safe includes knowing what your husband may be up to, before the next crisis. Can I count on your cooperation.?"

"I... I would have to think about it."

"All right, think. But don't take too long. Do it before the next crisis."

* * *

Urien looked frail. He could not keep from shaking. Was it guilt? Or just shock?

Barnabas could not tell. If he was wrong and Urien was innocent, how could he justify to himself tormenting him with his doubts? But if he was guilty, how could he look the other way?

He said nothing. Just put his hand on Urien's shoulder. Urien rested his head on Barnabas's hand and sobbed.

Urien sensed tenseness in Barnabas... Barnabas did not trust him...

"God, you think I did it!" he blurted out.

"Did what?"

"You have been thinking about the other guy I told you about. You think that I may have set Loomis on fire...

Barnabas stared at him. "Did you?"

"Of course not. What do you take me for?"

Barnabas did not answer. Was the indignation in Urien's eyes real? Or was he just covering up?

Could Urien have done it?

"All right!" Urien turned his back "If you can think that of me, what is the point in arguing?"

"Urien" Barnabas took him by the shoulders and made him turn around. "Don't talk to me that way."

"Why not? You are willing to believe _that_ of me."

They looked at each other. Hurt in Urien's eyes. Doubt in Barnabas' What if he was wrong? What if he accused Urien unjustly?

"All right." Urien said defiantly "If you can't believe what I say, you have ways to make me tell the truth. Use them."

"Urien..."

"Do it. Force the truth out of me.."

Urien was right. There was no other way. If he did not do it, the doubt would destroy them. While this, however unpleasant, could be over in a matter of minutes.

"I want to believe you."

"But not enough. Go ahead."

Barnabas bit him, closing his eyes, holding Urien close, letting Urien's mind and memories flow into him...

Urien had not done it.

He had not. He felt guilty for not checking on the old man, guilty for not running fast enough when he heard the screams... He had been tired that night and gone to bed early... He thought that Loomis had the D.T.s when he started screaming. He had gotten here too late. But then he had beaten the flames off with his bare hands...

"I am sorry I doubted you, Urien."

* * *

"Did you get anything last night?" Sandy asked Xavier., half-asleep.

Xavier shook his head.

"Nothing again?"

"I thought I did. But..." Xavier seemed dazed, as if at a loss for words. "I just don't know..."

"Well, maybe tomorrow you'll have better luck."

"Yes. Tomorrow."

It was the truth. He had not seen anything out there last night.

Why did he then feel like he was lying to her?

* * *

What is the truth about the UFO? Will Zoya break free of Hallie? Will Adam start a new life as Anton Romano?

Stay tuned...


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